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THE first Pet that we ever remember possessing was a large 
white rabbit. We were then very little children ; and, being 
at the sea-side, we spent the greater part of the day on the 
shore, or rather on the broad esplanade, that stretched for 
full half-a-mile round the pretty bay. When we were quite 
tired of running there, or of picking up stones and weeds on 
the shingle below the esplanade wall, we were enabled to 
prolong our stay out of doors by means of the pretty little 
goat-carriages that were kept in readiness on the esplanade. 
Some of them were made with two seats ; some were drawn 
by one goat, and some with two. There were reins and 
regular harness to these little goats, and we were indeed 
pleased, when our nurse allowed us to drive in one of the 
double-seated carriages. We took turns to sit in front and 
drive, and we tried hard to persuade /our Mamma to let us 
have a goat, and a goat-carriage for ourselves. What a nice 
Pet that would have been I But Mamma said she could not 
take it about, as we travelled much, and also that a goat 



would butt at us and knock us clown. Therefore we were 
obliged to be content with patting and coaxing the goats 
on the walk. 

During one of our drives in the goat-carriage, we met 
with a boy carrying a beautiful white creature with pink 
eyes; "Look! look! nurse/' we cried, " what is that?" "It 
is a rabbit," she said, " would you like to stroke it?" and 
she took it out of the boy's hands, and held it close to us ; 
we kissed it and stroked it, and buried our faces in its long 
white hair, felt its curious long ears, and wondered at the 
strange colour of its eyes. The boy said that a sailor gave it 
to him; but that his mother wished him to sell it, as it was 
troublesome in her small cottage, and they had no yard to 
keep it in, and he asked nurse if she would buy it from him. 
We earnestly begged that we might have it; " Do buy it, 
Mary," we cried; "please buy it." And, after some talking, 
Mary gave sixpence to the boy for the rabbit, and, my sister 
giving up her front seat and her reins to me, went home with 
the pretty creature in her lap. 

We called the rabbit Moppy; it was a source of great 
amusement to us. Mary contrived a bed for it in a large 
packing-box in an empty garret at the top of the house, and 
when we wished to play with it, it was brought down to the 
nursery. We always fed it from our hands. It became 
extremely tame, and would follow us about the room, and 
allow us to lift it and carry it in all sorts of strange ways; 
for we could not manage lifting it by the ears in the proper 
way. When it began to be tired of us, it used to get under 
the sofa, and when we dragged it out again it appeared 
angry and would kick with its hind legs, and make quite 


a loud knocking on the floor, with what we called its hind 
elbows. When this commenced, nurse usually carried it 
off to its box, fearing that it might bite, or else she covered 
it up in her lap, when it would remain asleep for some time. 

Now and then we took it with us when we drove in the 
little carriage, and it lay so snugly on our knees and kept 
us so warm. Before we had become at all weary of our 
plaything, or indifferent to its welfare, we removed to 
Ireland ; and going first to visit grand-mamma, it was 
thought impossible to take Moppy, so after much consult- 
ation, nurse spoke to one of the little boys who kept the 
goats, and seemed to be a gentle good-natured lad, and 
with many instructions and requests that he would be most 
kind and careful to the poor little animal, we kissed and 
stroked our pet, and, burying our faces in its long white 
hair for the last time, we made him a present of beautiful 
soft Moppy. 



u WOULD you like to buy a bird, Sir?" said a poor woman 
to me one day when we were just setting out for our walk. 
She held in her hand a small cage with a beautiful goldfinch. 

" I have one shilling and sixpence," I said, " will you 
<nve it to me for that?" 


" I hoped to be able to sell it for half-a-crown," the 

woman said, " for I am very poor ; I am leaving this place 
and want money for my journey, or I should not part with 
my bird/' 

"But I have a shilling," said my sister, " and that added 
to your money will make half-a-crown, and so we can buy 
it between us and it will belong to us both." 

We gave our money to the poor woman, and she put the 
cage into my hand. The little bird was quite a beauty, his 
colours so bright, his plumage so glossy and thick, and his 
chirp so merry. After displaying him to Mamma, and to 
every body we met, we carried him to the nursery, and 
placed him on the broad window-seat ; Mamma said she was 
afraid we should soon get tired of him, and neglect to feed 
him and to clean his cage. This, we thought, was quite 
unlikely. However, we promised very faithfully; and we 
commenced with feeding and petting him so much that 
he soon became extremely tame, would take seeds and 
crumbs from our fingers, chirp to us when we came near 
his cage, and sing without the least sign of fear. 



One day we had carried him into the drawing-room; 
and, on opening the door of the cage to put in some sugar, 
he darted out. ' f Oh dear! oh dear! Goldie is out/' we 
exclaimed; " what shall we do? We shall lose him/' But 
Mamma quickly got up, and shut both the windows and 
begged us to be quiet, and not to frighten him by rushing 
after him and attempting to seize him. " If you leave 
him alone/' said Mamma, <l he will perhaps allow you quietly 
to take him in your hand when he has flown about as 
much as he wishes; but he will lose all his tameness if 
you terrify him/' So we sat down to watch the little 
fellow, he darted about the room for some time, and pre- 
sently alighted on the table, where the breakfast things 
remained. First he pecked at the bread, then tried the sugar, 
peeped into the cups, and seemed highly amused at the 
different articles which he was now examining for the first 
time. Then he flew on the top of the picture frames that 
hung on the wall, then on the curtain rods, and at last 
perched on Mamma's head, peeped at her hair, and looked as 
proud and happy as possible. And after he had looked at 
every thing in the room and well stretched his wings, he 
quietly returned to his cage, chirping at us, as if to say, 
" I have seen enough for one day, Pll come out again 
to-morrow/' So afterwards we used to give him a fly 
every morning, taking care to shut all the windows before 
his door was opened. \Ve paid so much attention to our 
bird ; that he did not seem to find his life at all dull, but he 
obtained a companion in an unexpected manner. 

Our nursery window was standing open, Goldie was in his 
cage on the table, and we were playing on the floor; suddenly 



my sister exclaimed, pointing to the window, "Goldie 
is out! Goldie is out!'' and there indeed, perched on 
the window-sill, was a little bird, which for a moment 
we believed to be our own little pet. We gently ap- 
proached the window. "Oh that is a brown bird/' said 
I, " and look ! Goldie is safe in his cage." Nurse now 
advised us to draw back from the window, for that if not 
frightened, the little stranger might possibly be attracted 
by the bird in the cage, and might come inside the 
window; so we retreated to the opposite side of the room, 
and watched the little fellow. In he hopped very cau- 
tiously, now and then making a little chirrup, and twisting 
his head in all directions, as if to di.-cnver with his sharp 
black eyes, whether there wa- anything or anybody likely 
to hurt him; now he came on a chair-back, and then 
becoming bolder, ventured on the table. "\Yhen Goldie saw 
him, he left his seed box at which he had been v^ry busy, 
and hopping about his cage in a most excited mannene 
began to chirrup as loudly as he could, and shaking his tails 
up and down, he seemed to express his great joy at the i 
sight of the little brown visitor. Xurse quietly passed 
round the room and shut the window, " Xow we have him 
safe," we cried, dancing about. " Pray be still, my dears," said 
nurse, " until we get him into the cage." So we again became 
immoveable, and there was the brown stranger peeping at 
Goldie through the bars, perhaps wishing to partake of the 
seed and sugar, and fresh groundsel that Goldie had been 
enjoying. He was a delicately shaped thin little bird, all 
his feathers of a pretty dark brown, he did not appear to 
be much frightened when nurse approached, nor did he 


leave the table when she opened the door of the cage; 
but on the contrary, he peeped in, and receiving a very 
civil chirp of invitation from Goldie, he actually hopped in 
to our extreme delight. 

We ran to display our treasure to Mamma. She was quite 
amused at our having caught him in so strange a manner, 
and said that she thought he was a linnet, or some such kind 
of bird. He was evidently a tame bird that had been much 
petted. He soon accommodated himself to all Goldie's habits, 
came regularly to breakfast, and took his fly afterwards, all 
about the room, resting occasionally on our heads or 
shoulders. Brownie would now hop on our fingers, when 
we wished to take him up from the floor; and this we had 
never been able to teach to Goldie. 

The two birds were very good friends, excepting when an 
unusually nice bit of groundsel or plantain excited a 
quarrel between them; then they scolded, fluttered, and 
] pecked at each other in a very savage manner. We had a 
sliding partition made to the cage, and when they began to 
dispute, we punished them by sliding in this partition and 
separating them for a short time. They used to look quite 
unhappy, moping in their solitude, until we made them 
happy again, by withdrawing the partition. 

These little birds went many journeys with us, even 
crossed to England, and back again to Ireland, aud lived 
with us for a long time; and I suppose we became rather 
careless about open windows and doors, knowing that the 
birds were so very tame, and had no wish to fly away. 

We were the following summer in another place. There 
our rooms were confined and small; so we used to allow the 


birds to fly about on the staircase every morning, in order 
to give them a larger range for using their wings. 

One bright summer morning, Goldie flew out on the 
landing; and as he had invariably come back again to his 
cage, we were not noticing him much, and never perceived 
that the servant had gone down stairs, leaving open the door 
at the bottom of the flight, just outr-ide of which door, was 
an open window. Presently we went to see for him, and it 
was some moments before we .-pied him sitting on the ledge 
of this open window. If we had made no exclamation, 
and placed the cage on the stairs, most probably he would 
have returned; but perhaps we startled him by running 
down the stairs towards him. Out he went so rapidly and 
yet so gently, in the bright fresh air, as it' he v><>uld say, 
" Liberty and sunshine, and freedom of flight in the 
summer sky, is too delightful to refuse, even lor you, my 
dear little master and mistrc-. lie perched on a high 
tree and looked at us for a while. In vain we strewed 
crumbs about the window, and called and whistled. In vain 
we set his cage on the ledge with his deserted companion 
in it, hoping that hearing Brownie's chirp would entice him 
to return. He never came back again, and Brownie occupied 
the cage for many months; our care of him being greater 
than ever, since we lost our other favourite. 

But Brownie's end was much more tragic. AVe were 
going away on a visit for some weeks; and it was decided 
that Brownie was not to go, but that he should live in the 

kitchen until we returned. There was a hu^e cat living in 

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the barracks. We always had been in dread of her, and had 
tried to make her afraid of entering our door; but whilst 


we were away, she one day found all the doors open, and 
peeping into the kitchen, and seeing no protecting servant 
there, she seized our dear little pet, and soon destroyed him. 
When we returned home, there was nothing but the empty 



"\VE were staying for some months at a seaport town in Franco, 
many vessels used to come in from dillercnt parts of flic 
world; and I suppose the sailors brought with thorn all sorts 
of animals and birds, for the houses looking on the quay 
where the vessels were moored were almost entirely shops 
of birds, monkeys, etc., tc. It was m<>.-t amii.-iirj i" walk 
along the <ju;iv, aiid look at all the live creatures that 
were there exposed fur sale. Such a chattering of monkeys 
of all shapes and sizes, such a twittering and singing 
from every imaginabl* small birds, such a scream- 

ing and chattering from the parrots and macaws, and such 
fun in peeping into the cages of white mice and ferrets. 
We often wished very much to buy a monkey; but ]\Iamma 
did not fancy it, and said they were uncertain ill-tempered 
beasts, and that we should be constantly bitten if we had one. 
First, we longed for this bird, then for that squirrel, then for a 
cage of white mice, and so on; indeed I believe we quite 
tormented Mamma with requests to walk along the quay of 
animals, as we called it. At last we set our affections upon 
a grey parrot, the smoothest and handsomest among the 
large number exposed for sale. AVe never heard her say 
anything, it is true; but we thought that an advantage, as 
she would not have learnt to swear and talk like the sailors, 
and we should teach her to say just what we pleased. 

The price of the parrot was rather high, because of her 


size and beauty, and we longed for her many weeks before 
we were her masters; but at last she was placed in our 
possession as a new year's gift, and, in addition,, a nice cage 
with a swing, and tin dishes for her food, all the wood work 
being carefully bound with tin, to secure it from her for- 
midable beak. 

Cage and parrot were carried with us on our return to 
England, and she soon became a great pet. She was not at 
first very tame; but by much petting, and by leaving the 
door of her cage constantly open, so that she did not feel 
herself a prisoner, she gradually became more friendly. 
The first sign of love to any of us was after my sister's 
short absence of a few days at a friend's house. "When she 
returned, we were talking together in the hall, and Poll's 
cage being in an adjoining room, she heard her voice, and 
recognising it, she came down from her cage, and gave 
notice of her arrival at my sister's feet by her usual croak ; she 
flapped her wings, and gave every sign of pleasure at seeing 
her again. She did not, however, extend her amiability to 
any one but myself, sister, and Mamma; she was still savage 
to strangers, and would bite fiercely if touched, but if we 
offered our wrists, she would step soberly on, allow us to 
scratch her head, stroke her back, push back her feathers to 
look at her curious little ears, and in return she would lay 
her beak against our cheeks, and make a clucking noise as 
if she meant to kiss us. She used to waddle all about the 
room with her turned-in toes, and climbed up tables and 
chairs just as she pleased. She would get upon Mamma's 
knee by scrambling up her dress, holding it tight in her 
beak. When we were writing or drawing, she enjoyed 


sitting on the table, though she meddled sadly with our 
things,, biting our pencils in pieces, tearing paper, and so 
on, and once in particular, she terrified us for her own -iletv 
by opening every blade of a sharp penknife, and flourishing 
it about in her claws a? if in triumph. We had some dilli- 
culty in getting it from h< r gra-p without cutting our.- !-. 
or hurting her. She was a famous talker, called us all hv 

name, whistled and barked when the do" came into tin; 


room; called " Puss,, pus* !" and mewed wlien the cat showed 
itself, sang several bits of songs, and asked for fruit and 
food of different sort-. \\\> never could teach her to sing 
through a whole tune. I never heard a parrot get 
beyond a fe\v barn; and I wonder what is the reason that 
they will learn the commencement of half-a-dozen dill'eivnt 
songs, but still cannot remember any whole. I do think a 
parrot's voice and utterance is one of the most extraordi- 
nary of things, for it always repeats a word in the peculiar 
voice of the person who taught it ; and, instead of closing 
its beak or touching the roof of its mouth with its tongue, 
in order to articulate, it invariably opens its mouth wide 
when it speaks, and its tongue is never used at all; yet it 
will pronounce m's, b's, p's, and t's as plainly as any human 
being. We could always tell who had taught our Poll any 
word or song, from the similarity of voice that she adopted. 
Her sleeping-place was for some time on the top of a chair- 
back in my sister's bedroom. When we were lea vino- the 

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sitting-room to go upstairs at night, Poll used to waddle 
down from the cage and come to my sister, who held her 
wrist down for her to mount, and having been conveyed 
upstairs and placed on the floor, she mounted of her own 


accord to her sleeping perch, gave all her feathers a good 
shake, and settled her head for the night. 

Very early in the morning, she used to commence her 
toilet. Such scratching^ and smoothings of her feathers, 
such picking and cleaning of her feet and legs ; and having 
arranged her dress for the day, she would come down, take 
a turn or two about the room, and then look at my sister to 
see if she were awake. If not stirring, Poll used to clamber 
up on the bed by means of the curtain or counterpane, get 
quietly on the pillow, and examine her eyes closely. If no 
wink was perceptible, Poll would gently and cautiously lift 
up an eyelid, pinching it softly in her beak, then go to the 
other eye and do the same; then she would wait a little bit, 
saying, "Hey? hey?" as if to ask whether her mistress 
was not yet properly roused. Then she would again work 
away at the eyelids, till my sister could no longer refrain 
from laughing. She used to feign being asleep every 
morning, in order to amuse herself with Poll's pro- 

I wished to try having my eyelids opened by Poll in the 
same manner, and one night took the bird into my own 
room; but she did not approve of this change of quarters, 
and instead of going quietly to sleep, made such a croaking 
and grinding of teeth on her chair-back, that I was glad to 
carry her back to my sister's room. Indeed, although she 
was very friendly with me, she did not manifest the same 
attachment as towards my sister and mother, apparently 
preferring ladies' society. 

TThile Poll was with us, we went another journey into 
France, and took the parrot with us in a basket. It was a 


stormy night when we crossed from Southampton,, and Poll 
in her basket was placed at the foot of my sister's berth, 
and no further attention was paid her. The cabin was 
very full of people, and numbers had to lie on the floor, 
there not being suflicicnt berths or sofas. In the middle of 
the night, the inmates of the ladies' cabin were all startled 
by a scream from an old lady who was stretched on the 

" Stewardess ! Here! Here! Some dreadful thinir i>; 


biting me. I have received a shocking bite on the leg. 
Do search for the creature, whatever it is." 

So the stewardess came and looked, and could find 

My sister, who had looked out of her shelf at the old 
lady's cry, immediately divined what it was, seeing that 
Poll's basket had rolled off the berth to the floor, and she 
having gnawed a hole in the basket, had put out her beak 
and bitten the first thing with which it came in contact. 

AY hen the stewardess came to look for the monster, the 
basket had rolled, with the motion of the ship, to the other 
side of the cabin, and not finding a sea voyage pleasant, 
she put forth her beak again. 

" Oh ! bless me ! What can that be?" cried another pas- 
senger. " Something bit me. Do find it, stewardess.'' 

Then came another lurch, and away rolled Poll in her 
basket ; and no one suspected a rather shabby old basket 
of containing anything but perhaps a pair of slippers, or a 
brush and comb, or some such articles. So poor Poll rolled 
about in her prison, inflicting bites on several legs and arms, 
my sister meanwhile in agonies of laughter on her shelf, 


and not daring to say who was the real offender, lest Poll 
should be turned out of the cabin. 

At last the stewardess said that she supposed it must be 
rats, and she ran away at the entreaties of the poor victims 
on the floor to fetch the steward to search for the rats. 
Whilst she was gone, my sister slipped down from her 
berth, and took possession of Poll's basket. She had 
scarcely retreated with it in safety, when the stewardess 
returned with the steward ; and rather an angry altercation 
ensued, the man insisting that there was not a rat in the 
ship, and the injured passengers insisting that sharp bites 
could not be made by nothing at all. However, after a 
long dispute, he begged them all to move from the floor, 
and made a regular search. 

My sister was all the time in the greatest alarm, lest Poll 
should think proper to croak or sing " Nix my dolly/' or 
otherwise to make known her presence. As luck would 
have it, however, Poll was either too sea-sick or too angry 
to say anything, and the steward announced that no live 
thing was in the cabin, and that the ladies had been 

" But bites in a dream, don't bleed, " retorted an angry 
old lady, holding up to view a pocket handkerchief which 
indeed wore a murderous appearance. 

This being unanswerable, the steward could only shrug 
his shoulders and retreat from the Babel of voices in the 
ladies' cabin; and soon after, my sister had the pleasure of 
landing, with Poll undiscovered and safe in her old basket, 
and we are ignorant whether the old lady ever found out 
what it was that had bitten her. 


During our journey, Poll often caused great amusement, 
by suddenly shouting or singing as we were jogging along 
in a diligence or slowly steaming on a river, thereby 
astonishing and alarming our fellow passengers ; nor did 
she forget, when occasion offered, to make good use of her 
strong beak. 

At one place we were entering a town late at night, and 
the place being a frontier town, our luggage was all strictly 
examined by the custom-house oihcers before we were per- 
mitted to enter the gates. All having been passed and 
paid for, we remounted the diligence ; my sister was the 
last. She had her foot on the step, when one of the men 
rudely pulled her back, asking why she had not shown her 
basket. She said there was nothing in it but a bird, but 
the man declared he must look ; and seeing that my sister 
was unwilling to open it, he imagined there was something 
valuable and contraband in it, so roughly dragging it out 
of her hands, he tore open the lid, and thrust in his hand. 
Poll pave a loud croak, and the man rather quickly with- 
drew his hand, with a thousand vociferations at the bird 
and the basket and my sister. I must confess I was de- 
lighted to see that Poll had made her beak nearly meet in 
the surly fellow's linger. 

AVhen my sister had regained her basket, and we had 
left the gate, we lavished much praise on Poll for her dis- 
criminating conduct on this occasion, She would not have 
bitten my hand had I put it into the basket ; how did she 
know that the hand was a stranger's ? 

When we arrived at our destination in the south of 
France, Poll enjoyed the novelty as much as any one. 


she revelled in the abundance of oranges and other fruits, eat- 
ing just the best part, and flinging away the rest with lavish 
epicurism. And how she basked in the hot sun, and climbed 
about the cypress and olive trees in the garden, biting the 
bark and leaves, and almost I think believing that she was 
again in her wild birth-place, wherever that may have been ! 
She accompanied us in safety on our homeward journey, 
went to Ireland with us; and whenever we travelled, Poll 
went too. 

At one time she took an erroneous notion into her head, 
that she could fly ; now this was an impossibility, for her 
wings were very short and small, and her body very large 
and heavy. AYhether this had chanced from her unnatural 
life in a house, or from early cutting of her w r ings, I do not 
know, but she could not support herself in the air, even 
from the table to the ground. However, she thought 
she could, and on one occasion she tried to fly, when 
perched on the top bannister of a large well staircase 
of four flights. Down she came like a lump of lead on the 
floor below, and when we ran to pick her up, poor Poll 
was gasping, lying on her back, with her eyes rolling about 
in a fearful manner. We thought she would die, but we 
put some water in her mouth, blew in her face and did 
what we could to revive her, and gradually she recovered. 

But this lesson was lost upon her. A few days after, she 
tried to fly out of a window on the first floor, and came down 
in the same heavy way, on the flagged pavement before the 
door. This time her head was wounded, and bled, and she 
seemed stupid for some days after; but she recovered and 
lived long after that. Probably these falls had injured her 



brain, for at last she began to tumble off her perch, as if 
giddy, and then her head swelled very much, and she died 
in a sort of fit. 

I have seen other parrots who were better talkers than 
ours; but I never saw one so tame, and so fond of her own 
master and mistress, she used to come to meet us like a dog, 
when we came into the house, after being absent for walks 
or rides, knew our times for rising and going to bed, called 
us separately by our names, and really showed much intelli- 

l.irds, in general, are, I think rather stupid, and do not 
understand anything, but what their own instinct tells them ; 
but parrots seem to know the meaning of the words they 
learn: and if others do not, 1 am sure that our Poll did. 



OUR next pet was a very different creature. One of our 
aunts had sent us some money as a present; and I and my 
sister had many consultations as to what we should do with 
it. At last we hit upon an idea that charmed us both, 
and we ran to our Mamma. " Oh Mamma, we cried, do you 
think our money will buy a donkey ? We saw the other 
day, a little boy and girl both riding upon a donkey, it 
trotted along so nicely with them, and the little boy at the 
other side of the square has a -donkey, and we should like 
it so very much." Then Mamma said that a donkey would 
be of no use unless we could also buy a saddle and bridle; 
and besides that, she must enquire where he could graze, 
or whether there was any spare stall in which he could live. 
These things had not occurred to us; but we went to Papa, 
and begged him to find out where our donkey could live in 
case we had one. 

Now there was a large sort of waste field adjoining the 
Barrack Square; a few sheep and some old worn-out horses 
were kept in it, but I believe it was not used for anything 
else. We sometimes ran and played there, and there was a 
pond in it, into which we were very fond of flinging large 
cobble stones. Papa found that he could easily obtain leave for 
our donkey to graze there, and it was of such extent, that ' 


it could find there quite sufficient food; so that difficulty 
was done away with. 

Then we made enquiry about the price of donkeys. 
AVe talked one day to the nurse of the little hoy and girl 
who rode together. She did not know what their donkey 
cost, but told us that she knew a little boy who bought a 
young donkey, when it was scarcely able to stand, and so 
small, that he had it in his nursery, where it lay on the rug 
before the fire, and was quite a playfellow to him. 

AVe thought we should like a tiny donkey to play with in 
the house; but Mum ma persuaded us that it would be much 
pleasanter to have one that we could ride. Papa heard of 
a donkey we could buy fur one pound, it came to be looked 
at, and we liked its appearance much; it was in very good 
condition, its coat thick and smooth, and not rubbed in any 
place. Our other pound supplied us with a sort of 
soft padded saddle and bridle; the pommels took off, so 
that either of us could use the saddle, and happy indeed was 
the morning, when Neddy was brought to the door for us. 

I had the first ride, and, owing to a peculiarity in Neddy's 
manners, I soon had my first tumble. We proceeded across 
the square very nicely, and were about to cross a large 
gutter, along which a good deal of water w r as rushing. 
I had no idea that Neddy would not quietly step over it; 
but he had an aversion to water, and coming close to the 
gutter, he made a great spring and leapt over it; the 
sudden jerk tossed me off his back, and Papa catching 
.me by the collar of my dress, just prevented me from 
going headlong into the water. And we found that Neddy 
always jumped over a puddle, or any appearance of 


water; sometimes a damp swampy place in the road, was 
enough to set him springing. But when we knew that this 
was his custom, we wereprepared ( for it, and had no more falls ; 
we rode in turns, and sometimes I got on behind my sister, 
and many nice long rides we had all about the fields and 
lanes. When we returned home, we took off the saddle 
and bridle at the door, and gave Neddy a pat; away he 
scampered through the open gateway into the field, flinging 
up his heels with pleasure. We could see all over the 
field and the square from our windows, and soon found it 
extremely amusing to watch the proceedings of our Neddy 
and another donkey. 

This donkey belonged to a little boy, who also lived in 
the square; he did not often ride upon it, but it followed 
him about more in the manner of a large dog. It had 
learned how to open the latches of the doors, and could go up 
and down stairs quite well. 

Our Mamma went one day to see the little boy's Mamma, 
and when she opened the door of their house she was much 
surprised to find the donkey's face close to her's, and she 
was obliged to give him a good push to get past him. When 
we heard this, we used to watch for the donkey going in 
and out, and soon we saw him go into the field and make 
friends with Neddy. They held their heads near together 
and seemed to be whispering; then they would trot about a 
little while, then whisper again. We supposed that the 
strange donkey was telling Neddy what fun he had in going 
into the different house? and getting bits to eat from the 
inhabitants, and instructing him how to bray under such 
and such windows when cooking was going on. For Neddy 


soon began to follow his friend about, and to imitate 
everything that he did. AVc did not know the name of the 
other donkey, so we called him the Rifle donkey, because 
his little master's Papa belonged to a rifle regiment. Neddy 
was an apt pupil, for soon after the conversations between 
the two donkeys had begun, we were seated one evening at 
tea, when we heard an extraordinary clattering upon the 
staircase, we listened and wondered, as it became louder. 
The staircase came up to the end of a long passage, which 
led to our doors, and when the clattering reached the passage 
I exclaimed, " I do believe it is the donkey coming up 

"We rushed to the door, and looked out. Yes, indeed, 
the Rifle donkey and Neddy were quietly pacing along the 
passage. "We were thoroughly charmed at Neddy's clever- 
ness in mounting two long flights of stairs, and when we 
had given them each a piece of bread, and patted and 
coaxed them, they turned away to go down again, the Rifle 
donkey leading the way. He managed very well indeed, but 
Neddy made rather awkward work with his hind legs; 
however, he managed to reach the bottom without throwing 
himself down. Next they went under the windows of 
the adjoining house, and the Rifle donkey began to bray 
loudly, Neddy copied him in his most sonorous tones, and 
presently a window was opened and a vaiiety of little bits of 
food were thrown out, which they ran to pick up. They 
came every morning to this window, and the officer who 
lived there always answered their call, by throwing some- 
thing out to them. When he shut his window, they quietly 
went away, and about the middle of the day, when luncheons 
and dinners were going on, they would go to other windows 


about the square, and bray for food. Neddy always walked 
behind the other, and did not bray till he began. Some- 
times there were clothes laid out to dry by the washer- women 
on a piece of grass, behind the houses. This supplied great 
amusement to the donkeys, for as soon as the women went 
away they would run to the grass, take up the clothes in 
their mouths, fling them up in the air, tread upon them, tear 
them, and even used to eat some of the smallest things, such 
as frills and pocket-handkerchiefs. But this was really too 
mischievous, as the poor women suffered for their fun. 

No one would believe them, when they said that such a 
missing handkerchief had been eaten by donkeys, or that 
such a piece of lace or a collar had been bitten and torn by 
the same tiresome creatures. I well remember some of our 
shirts coming home half eaten, and our Mamma then advised 
the washer-women to have a boy, with a good thick stick, 
to watch the drying ground, and to desire him to belabour 
them well if they attempted to touch any of the clothes. 
This advice was followed, so that piece of fun was in future 
denied to the donkeys. But, I and my sister highly dis- 
approved of this system ; we thought that we would much 
rather have our shirts eaten, or indeed all our clothes torn 
than allow Neddy to be beaten with a stick, to say nothing 
of the great amusement it gave us, to see the two queer 
animals rushing about among the wet things, entangling 
their feet in them, and sometimes trotting off into the square 
with a night-cap or a stocking sticking on their noses. 
However, we still took great interest in their proceedings 
even without the poor washerwomen's clothes ; for being 
deprived of that game, they began to plague the soldiers at 


the guard room. It had a sort of colonnade in front, support- 
ed by pillars, and the Rifle donkey found that it was very 
diverting to rush head first at the men who were standing 
under the colonnade. If they tried to strike him, he used to 
dodge round a pillar, and then rush at them again from the 
other side. Often he singled out one man for his attacks, 
and then Neddy assisted his friend, bv biting at the same 

X *f 

man from behind, but he was not nearly so active in evading 
punishment as the Rifle donkey, and received many a buffet 
and kick during these encounter?. Sometimes the soldiers 


punished them by getting on their backs. This, however, 
was not to be borne, and cling as tightly as they could, 
the donkeys never failed to fling them off, when they would 

return to the charge with renewed viuour. 

~ . 

These games of bo-peep, and so forth, apparently amused 
the men quite as much as ourselves, and many a half-hour 
have w r e sat in our stair-case window-seat, watching the 
antics of the donkeys and the soldiers. Their play usually 
ended by the Rifle donkey receiving a harder rap on the 
nose than he deemed pleasant, then he would fling up his 
heels, and with a most unearthly yell, gallop off to the 
field, closely followed by the sympathising Neddy, who 
imitated in his best fashion both the yell and the fling of 
his heels. 

We were going to leave the barracks, and move to 
another part of Ireland; and just before we went, the two 
donkeys got into a terrible scrape. Indeed, it was very 
well that we did go away; for they were becoming so ex- 
tremely mischievous and so cunning, that they would soon 
have become too tiresome; and although we were charmed 

g-'ir- 1 " r 

~TT-~ ' \ 





with, every trick they played, almost all the grown-up 
people thought them a great torment; and the Rifle-donkey 
had become a great deal more active and monkey-like, 
since Neddy had followed and copied him. I suppose he 
felt proud of being able to lead the other wherever he chose. 

It was extremely hot weather, and all doors and 
windows were generally left standing open. Not that it 
would have made much difference to the Rifle-donkey had 
they been shut ; for there was not a door in the place that 
he could not open. But very likely they were tempted to 
this work of destruction by the sight of the open door. 
Whilst the officers were dining, the two donkeys walked 
into the ante-room. The table there was covered with 
newspapers, magazines, and books; and perhaps the 
donkeys thought that these papers were some of their old 
friends the clothes, from the drying-green; so they pulled 
them off the table; tore the newspapers into little bits; 
munched the backs of some bound books; scattered the 
magazines about the room ; upset an ink-bottle that stood 
on the table; dabbled their noses in the pond of ink, and 
having done their best to destroy and spoil everything 
there, our Neddy, I suppose, was so delighted at the 
mischief they had done, that he could not refrain from 
setting up a loud and prolonged bray of pleasure and 

This brought in some of the officers, and there they found 
the Rifle-donkey trampling a heap of torn papers and 
books, with the remains of a blotted " Punch " in his 
mouth, and Neddy was looking on and expressing his 


So they were ignominiously turned out with kicks and 
blows; and some of the officers were very angry, and said 
that both of the donkeys ought to be shot immediately; 
and the others said that, at any rate, they should be shut 
up, and not allowed to run at large about the barracks. 
But, luckily for Xeddy, we went a way in a day or two, 
and we never heard how they managed to keep the Riile- 
donkey in order. Perhaps he was not so mischievous when 
he had lost his companion, having then no one to admire 
his proceedings. AYe only heard that when his regiment 
left, some months later, the donkey marched out with them 
just in front of the band. 

As soon as we arrived at our new abode, our first thought 
was to find a field for Neddy. The fort in which we were 
to live was quite small; there was a street on one side, and 
the river close up to the wall on the other; the square, or 
rather the small space within the wall, was gravelled: 
no where could we see a blade of grass for our poor donkey, 
and there appeared to be nothing but brown bog anywhere 
round. Poor Xeddy was put in a stall at the inn for the 
night; he must have been much surprised at the hay, and 
the luxurious bed of straw; for a bare field had hitherto 
been his only resting-place, and green grass the very best 
thing he had had to eat. 

But the stall could not be continued ; and as soon as 
our Papa had leisure, he looked about for a suitable place 
for Xeddy. 

There was another small fort about half-a-mile down the 
river: it consisted of a moat, and a low wall with a few 
guns. There was one little cottage inside for the gunner in 

cj O D 


charge ; and the whole space inside the wall, consisting of a 
flat terrace, with sloping banks, and a good space in the 
middle, was covered with beautiful thick green grass. 
This was just the place for Neddy; he would not be able 
to get out, and there was nothing inside that he could 
hurt ; for, of course, the gunner would soon teach him 
that he was not to poke his nose inside his neat little 
cottage ; and there was plenty of space for him to run about, 
and fresh moist grass to eat, which I should think he would 
like better than dry hay in a hot stall. So Papa asked, 
and obtained leave, to keep our donkey there; and we rode 
upon him from the inn, and put him in possession of the 
little fort. He pricked up his ears, and seemed not quite 
to like the clatter of his hoofs, as he crossed the planks 
which formed a rude bridge over the moat. We thought 
nothing of this at the time, but we had to think a great 
deal of it the next day, when we came to take our ride in 
happy ignorance that this would be the very last ride we 
should ever take on Neddy's back. "We kept our saddle 
and bridle in our kitchen, and had to carry it with us to 
the fort; so I put it on my head and the bridle round my 
waist, and my sister drove me, and pretended I was a 
donkey. So we came very merrily to the fort, and having 
saddled and bridled Master Neddy, I was mounted, and we 
proceeded towards the plank bridge. But just at the edge, 
Neddy stopped short, laid back his ears, tried to turn 
round, and, in fact, refused to cross. In vain we patted 
and coaxed, tried to tempt him across with a biscuit, then 
tied a pocket handkerchief over his eyes, and attempted to 
cheat him into crossing without his seeing where he stepped. 


In no wav could we induce him to put his foot upon tlie 
plank. The gunner came to our aid; and we all worried 
ourselves to no purpose. There was no other way out of 
the fort, and we were ready to cry witli vexation. At last, 
Xurse suggested that it would be best to return home, and 
ask Papa what we could do; and being at our wit's end, w<> 
took her advice and scampered back to the other fort. 
Papa, having heard our story, sent four of the men with 
us, telling them they were to bring Neddy out in the best 
way they could; but, that, come out, he ?/!//>/. When we 
returned, there stood Neddy, just where we had left him, 
staring stup'dly at the bridge. At first, they wanted to 
whip him, only leaving open to him the way to the bridge; 
but we declared he should not be beaten; and the gunner 
agreed with us, that blows would only make him still more 

"Well, then," they said, "as he is to come out at all 
hazards, the only thing we can do is to carry him, one to 
each leg." 

So they began to hoist up poor Xeddy, wiio did not in 
the least approve of this mode of conveyance. He tried to 
bite and kick, and twisted himself about in all directions. 
How we did laugh to be sure ! For when two of them had 
c^ot his fore legs over their shoulders, he made darts at 

o o 

their hair and their faces with his mouth, so that they had 
to hold his nose with one hand and his leg with the other. 
Then getting up his hind-legs was worse still; for he jerked 
and kicked so, as almost to throw down the men; and we 
quite expected to see the whole four and the donkey roll 
into the moat together. At last, he was raised entirely on 


their shoulders, and they ran across the bridge and set him 
down on the other side. 

f ' Are we to have this piece of fun every morning, Sir?" 
asked one of the soldiers, as they stood panting and 

"I hope not," I said, u I dare say he will be glad to go 
in to the grass when we come back from our ride ; and if 
he once crosses it, perhaps he will not be afraid to- 


So we took our ride; Neddy behaved quite as well as 
usual ; his fright did not appear at all to have disturbed 
his placidity ; and in about two hours we again stood before 
the terrible bridge. The gunner came out to see how we 
should manage. We took off the saddle and bridle, and 

o * 

invited Neddy to enter. There was the nice fresh grass, 
and banks to roll upon, and to run up and down, looking 
very tempting through the gate; and on the other side of 
the road, there was nothing but heaps of stones and- a great 
brown bog, stretching away as far as we could see, with 
nothing at all to eat upon it. But for all that, Xeddy 
looked at the bridge; smelt it; and, resolutely turning his 
back to it, stared dismally at the bog, as if he were 

" I don't see anything that I can eat there/' 
However, it was evident that although the fear of starva- 
tion was before him, he could not make up his mind to 
cross the ditch ; and, in fact, had absolutely determined not 
to do so. 

We were in despair ; but feeling sure that it would not 
do to have him carried in and out every day ; we discon- 


solately led him back to our home, and told our troubles to 
Papa, who ordered him back to the stall at the inn for the 


Next day, we tried in all directions to find a field where 
Xeddy could graze; but no such place could be found. So 
we had a grand consultation as to what must be done for 
him; and Papa said that he c>nld not keep him in a stall, 
feeding with hay, for, perhaps, half-a-year or more, as he 
expected to remain where w- were for a long time. So we 
made up our minds to part with our donkev; and we did 
not regret it quite so much at this time of year, as winter 
would soon come on, when, probably, we .-hmild not be 
able to ride much. 

We sent Neddy to the n< rest town, about ten miles 
ofY; and a little boy there became his master. And we kept 
his saddle and bridle, in hopes of supplying his place some 



WE were now living in England, in a country place 
fields and woods and lanes all around. We took great 
pleasure in all the amusements of country life. 

Our Papa had some ferrets, which he used to take out 
for rat-hunting in the corn stacks with a terrier we had, 
named Tawney, and other dogs; and now and then he went 
to a rabbit warren at some little distance. A boy one day 
brought from this warren a hat full of young rabbits for the 
ferrets to eat. They were all supposed to be dead ; but when 
Papa was looking at them, he saw that one of the poor 
little things was alive, so he brought it into the house and 
gave it to me and my sister, saying that if we thought we 
could feed it we might keep it. 

The poor little thing was so young, that it was a great 
chance whether we could bring it up; but we had a 
cook who was very fond of all animals, and she helped us 
to nurse it. She fed it with milk for a few days, and 
then it soon began to nibble at bran and vegetables, and 
in a week or two could eat quite as well as a full-grown 

The gardener made us* a nice little house for it, by 
nailing some bars across the open side of an old box, and 
it slept in this by the side of the kitchen fire; but we 
never fastened it up so that it could not get out, and in 
the day-time it was seldom in its box, but running about 


the kitchen, and it soon found its way along the passage 
into the sitting-room, and then upstairs to the nursery, and 
into all the bed- rooms. It went up and down stairs quite 
easily, and seemed perfectly happy running about the 

It was a very strange thing that our terrier Tawney, 
of whom I have much to tell afterwards, never thought of 
touching Bunney, for when out of doors he was most 
eager after any sort of animal, would run for miles after a 
rabbit or a hare, went perfectly crazy at tin- nght of a 
eat, and was famous fur rat-hunting and all Mich things; 
but as soon as he entered the house, even if the iaucy little 
Bunney hounded about just befoie his nose, he would 
quietly pass by, apparently without an idea that it was a 
thing to be hunted. In the evenings, when Tawney would 
lie asleep on the rug, Bunney used to run over him, some- 
times nestling itself against his back or legs; then would 
pat his face with its fore paws, and take all manner of 
liberties with him, he never so much as growled or snapped 
at it, and seemed really to like the companionship of the 
poor little creature. 

One very favourite hiding-place of Bunney 's was behind 
thebooks on the dining-room shelves. These were quite 
low down to the floor, and if he could find a gap where a 
book was taken out, he squeezed himself in, and as the 
shelves were very wide, there was plenty of room for him 
to run about behind the books. 1 suppose he liked the 
darkness, and thought it was something like one of his 
native burrows, and if he could not remember them, it was 
his natural propensity to live in narrow dark passages, and 


therefore he preferred such places to the open daylight. It 
was very funny to see his little brown face peeping out 
between the books. Sometimes it happened that a book 
was replaced whilst Bunny was snugly hidden behind, and 
then we missed him when we went to put him to bed in his 
box for the night. First we went to look for him in all 
the rooms, and about the passages, and if he was not in the 
bookcase he would always come when we called, so when 
we saw nothing of the little animal, we went and took a 
book out of each shelf, and we were sure to see his bright 
eyes glistening in the dark, and then out came little Bunny 
with a bound. He did not seem to care for running into 
the garden or yard, which was odd; but as he grew older 
his taste for burrowing showed itself strongly. 

As he used to follow the cook about everywhere, he had 
of course been often down to the cellar and larder. These 
were paved with small round stones, and there was an inner 
cellar, or rather a sort of receptacle for lumber of all sorts, 
which was not paved at all; it had a floor of earth. Old 
hampers and boxes were put away there, sometimes pota- 
toes and carrots, etc., were spread on the floor there, and 
altogether the place had a very damp, earthy sort of smell, 
perhaps very like the inside of a rabbit burrow, and one 
day the cook came to ask Mamma to come and look at 
the litter Bunny had made in the cellar. We all ran 
down, and saw that Bunny had scratched up a quantity 
of earth from between the little stones with which the 
cellar was paved; in fact the cellar floor looked almost like 
a flower-bed, all earth. The door into the inner cellar 
happened to be shut, or most probably he would have 



commenced his operations where there were no stones to 
hinder him. 

Mamma said that the gardener should press down the 
earth again between th^ stones, and tighten any that wen- 
loose, and that Bunny must not be allowed at any time to 
go down into the cellar. But it was very difficult to pre- 
vent his doing so. In summer, the meat and the milk were 
kept down there, as being the coolest place, and the beer 
barrels were there, and the coals, in different compartments; 
and to fetch nil these dilleivnt things somebody or other 
was perpetually opening the door at the top of the stairs. 
So Bunny frequently found opportunities for slipping in at 
the open door, and he came every day l-s and less into the 
sitting-rooms. One evening he had the cunning to hide 

O O O 

himself behind some of the empty hampers in tin- inner 
cellar, and when we called him, and looked about for him 
in the evening, no Bunny appeared. In vain we took 
books out of all the shelves, limited behind the curtains, 
under the sofas, and in all his usual hiding-places, we were 
obliged to <jive it up, and "O to bed without finding him. 

O O IT ' O O 

The next morning, we renewed our search, and seeing 
no sign of his work in the outer cellar, we determined to 
have a regular rummage in the inner one. After moving 
a great many bottles, baskets, boxes, and barrels, we found 
a great hole. The earth had evidently been just scratched 
out; for it was quite moist and fresh. The busy little 
fellow had made a long burrow during the night in the 
floor of the cellar. AYhen he heard our voices, he came out 
of his newly-made retreat, and we took him up stairs and 
gave him some food ; for he was quite ravenous after his 


hard work. Then we consulted with his friend the cook, 
how to manage about him in future. It would certainly 
never do to let him go on burrowing under the house; in 
time we should have all the walls undermined, and the 
house would come tumbling down upon us, burying us in 
the ruins. Terrible,, indeed, was the catastrophe that we 
created in our imagination from the small foundation of 
Bunny's having scratched a hole in the cellar ! And now 
that he had once tried and enjoyed the pleasures of 
burrowing, we could scarcely expect that he would re- 
linquish it again. 

We went to talk about it to Mamma; and we proposed 
that Bunny should live in the garden. 

(l But," said Mamma, " I shall have all my nice borders 
scratched into holes; and the roots of my beautiful rose- 
trees laid bare ; and, in short, the whole flower-garden 
destroyed, to say nothing of the kitchen-garden, which 
would, of course, become a mere burrow." 

" Well, then, Mamma," we said; "we must make him a 
much larger house, and keep him in it altogether. We 
will not let him have his liberty at all; and then it will be 
impossible for him to do any mischief." 

But Mamma said, that although that plan would 
certainly prevent Bunny from burrowing; she thought that 
it would not be a very happy life for the poor little animal, 
who had been accustomed all his life to perfect liberty, 
and had never been confined to one place. 

We could think of no other plan; so begged Mamma to 
tell us what she thought we had better do. 

" Do you remember," said Mamma, " seeing a number of 


little brown rabbits, running about and darting in and out 
of their holes, in the wild part of the fir-woods, where we 
sometimes drive. There is a great deal of fern and grass 
about there, and nothing at all to prevent the rabbits from 
burrowing and enjoying their lives without any one to 
molest them. I advise you to take Bunny there, and to 
turn him loose in the fir-wood ; he will very soon find 
some companion and make himself a home; and do you 
not think he will be far happier when leading that life of 
freedom, than if kept in a wooden house, or even if allowed 
to burrow in a cellar?" 

After some deliberation, we agreed to follow Mamma's 
advice; and the next day we drove to the fir-wood, taking 
Bunny witli u? in a basket. 

We drove slowly along the skirts of the wood, looking 
for a nice place to turn him out. At last, we came to an 
open space among the fir-trees; the ground was there 
thickly covered with long grass, ferns, and wild-flowers, 
and the banks beneath the firs were full of rabbit-holes; we 
saw many little heads popping in and out. 

" This is just the place," we cried. " What a beautiful 
sweet fresh place to live in; and we got down and went a 
little way into the grass; then we placed the basket on the 
ground and opened it. Bunny soon put up his head, 
snuffed the sunny sweet air, and glanced about him in all 
directions. No doubt he was filled with wonder at the 
change from our kitchen or dark cellars, to this lovely 
wood ; with a bright blue sky, instead of a ceiling; 
waving green trees, instead of white walls ; and on the 
ground, in place of a bare stone floor; inexhaustible de- 


lights in the way of food; and soft earth for burrowing. 
Having admired all this, he jumped out of the basket; 
first he nibbled a little bit of grass, then ran a little way 
among the ferns. 

" Do let us watch him till he runs into a rabbit hole," we 
said to Mamma. 

And Mamma said she would drive up and down the 
road that skirted the firs, for about half-an-hour, and we 
might watch Bunny. 

He wandered about for a long time among the grass and 
plants; and at last we lost sight of him in a thick mass of 
broom and ferns. 

Mamma thought it was useless to search for him; there 
was no doubt that he would thoroughly appreciate the 
advantages of the fir-wood. So we gathered a large bunch 
of wild flowers, jumped into the carriage, and left Bunny 
in his beautiful new home. 



ONE morning, my si-tor was sitting with Mamma at the 
dining-room window, when they saw me coming down the 
garden walk, with my head bent down, and something 
perched on my back. 

" Look !" said Mamma, " What has your brother got on 
his buck '."" 

Up started my sister. 

" Oh !" cried she, "It is something alive; it is black: 
what can it be?" 

And she darted out to look at my prize. 

It was a fine glossy fully-fledged Jackdaw. The 
gardener, knowing my love for pets of all kinds, had 
rescued it from the hands of some boys, who had found a 
nest of jackdaws, and had presented it to me. 

Although it was quite young, it looked like a solemn 
old man; the crown of its head was becoming very grey; 
and it put its head on one side, and examined us in such a 
funny manner, listening with a wise look when we spoke, 
as if considering what we were saying. 

The gardener had cut one of his wings pretty close, and 
the remaining wing was not very large. We set him down 
in the garden, and watched him for some time, in order to 
be certain that he could not fly over the low wall that 
separated our garden from the road. And we soon saw 


that lie could only flutter a few inches from the ground, 
and hop in a very awkward sidelong manner; there was no 
fear of his escaping. 

Luckily, there was a large wicker cage, that had once 
been used for a thrush, in the coach-house. We fetched 
this out, cleaned it, and placed Jacky in it on the ground 
near some shady bushes. We left the door open, that he 
might hop in and out, and always kept a saucer of food for 
him in the cage. 

He soon became very tame* would hop on our wrists 
and let us carry him about, and liked sitting on our 
shoulders, as we went about the garden. Near his cage 
was a large lilac-bush, and he found that he could hop 
nearly to the top by means of its branches; and he picked 
out for himself a nice perch there, in a sort of bower of 
lilac-leaves and flowers. 

Finding this much pleasanter than the cage, he soon 
deserted that entirely; and at night, and whenever he was 
not hopping about the garden, or playing with us, he was 
to be found always on the same twig in the lilac bush. 

We used to place his saucer of sopped bread, and his 
saucer of water at the foot of the bush. 

When we passed, he used to shout "Jacky \" and soon 
be^an to try other words; and tried to imitate all sorts of 
sounds and noises. 

In the heat of summer, when the bed-room windows 
were all opened at daylight, we used to hear him practising 
talking in his bush. He barked like the dogs; utterly 
failed in his attempt to sing like the canaries; mewed like 
pussy very well, indeed ; and then kept up an indescribable 


kind of chattering, wliicli we called saying his lessons; for 
we supposed that he intended it to imitate our repeating of 
lessons, which he heard every morning through the dining- 
room window. 

Sometimes we heard more noise than he could possibly 
make alone; and we softly got out of our beds, and peeped 
through the window to discover what it was about. There 
must have been six or seven other jackdaws, running round 
and about his bush, hopping up and down into it ; appa- 
rently trying how they liked his house, and having all sorts 
of fun and conversation with our Jacky. 

Within a few fields of our garden walls, stood the old 
ruin of a hall or manor-house; it had once, doubtless, been 
large and handsome: nothing now remained of it but the 

o o 

outer wall, a few mullioned windows, and some remnants 
of stone-staircases. The walls being very thick and much 
broken, afforded excellent holes and corners for jackdaws' - 
nests; for owls and such things. Indeed, it was from one 
of these holes in the ruined hall, that Jacky had been 
taken. And the numerous feathered inhabitants of the 
" Old Hall," as it was called, having spied our pet, sitting 
in lonely state in his bower among the lilac leaves, doubt- 
less thought he would be grateful for a little company, and 
the society of his equals; so kindly used to pay him a visit 
in the early morning, before children or gardener were 
likely to interfere. 

We were rather afraid that the wild jackdaws might 
entice away our Jacky, by describing to him their own 
free life, and the mode of existence in the crumbling walls 
of their home. But when Mamma made us observe how 


very awkwardly he hopped about with his cropped wing, 
and how utterly impossible it was for him to fly across two 
or three fields, and to the top of the ruin, we were 
satisfied that his stay in our garden was compulsory; and 
and we agreed that the "Old Hall' jackdaws might visit 
him as much as they pleased. But they never once came 
at any other time than very early in the morning. 

I suppose Jacky thought that he had kept these visits 
a profound secret from us. 

As he grew older, he became extremely mischievous. 
When Mamma was busy in the garden, he used to come 
down from his tree and follow her about from one border to 
another, watching earnestly whatever she was doing; and 
whilst she tied up the plants, or gathered away the dead 
leaves and flowers, he used to put his head on one side, and 
seemed to be considering for what purpose this or that was 

Mamma was planting a quantity of sweet peas, in order 
to have a second and late crop, after the first had begun to 
fade. She planted them in circles, twelve peas in each, 
and a white marker was stuck in the centre of each patch. 
As it was fine warm weather, Mamma expected that these 
peas would very soon appear; but in a few days, when she 
went to look at them, she saw that all the white markers 
had been pulled up and thrown on one side. 

So she called to us, "Children! lam afraid you have 
meddled with my seed markers; for they have all been 
taken out, and I stuck them firmly in the ground ; some 
one must have touched them/' 

We assured Mamma that we were not the delinquents; 


indeed, we were too fond of all the beautiful flowers to 
injure them in any way. 

When we looked closer, we saw that there was an empty 
hole in each place where Mamma had planted a pea. They 
had every one been picked out. 

Whilst we were wondering who could have done this, 
the gardener passed, and Mamma showed him the empty 
holes, and the markers pulled up; and asked him who he 
thought likely to have done suoh a piece of mischief, 

" I shouldn't wonder if it war he," said the gardener, 
'pointing to Jackv, wh >. as usual, was close t> Mamma, 
listening attentively to all \vc ,-.iid. 

" rlai-ky, Jacky !" shut'd he, making some of his 
awkward jumps at the same time, and going close to the 
ring of little holes, he peeped down them, with his head on 
one side, as if to make sure that he had left nothing at the 

We could not help laughing at the queer old-fashioned 
manner of the creature; but, at the same time, it was very 
annoying for Mamma to lose all the pretty and sweet 
flowers through Jacky's greediness. 

She said she would plant some more immediately; and 
she sent my sister, with Jacky on her wrist, to the front 
of the house, with orders to stay there till the planting was 
finished, so that the mischievous bird might not watch the 
whole process, and would not know where the seeds were 

I staid to help Mamma; we planted rings of sweet peas 
in different places from the old ones ; and instead of white 
markers, which might attract Jacky's notice, we stuck in a 


great many bramble-sticks, all round every patch, so closely 
that a much smaller bird than Jacky would have found it 
difficult to squeeze himself in between the rough prickly 
twigs. Then we thought that all was safe, and we let 
Jacky come back to his perch. 

The next day he had not touched the brambles ; but I 
suppose he had thought it necessary to do something in the 
way of gardening; so he had fetched up, from the farthest 
end of the kitchen garden, a roll of bass, or strips of old 
matting, that was used for tying plants and flowers to 
sticks. This he had pulled into little shreds, all about the 
lawn and the flower-beds, and a great deal of time and 
trouble he must have spent upon his work. How the 
gardener did scold ! saying, that it would take the whole 
afternoon to clear away the litter, and that Jacky did 
more mischief than he was worth; and so on. 

But Jacky was a privileged person, and did pretty 
much as he liked ; so it was of no use to complain about 

It was most amusing to see how he teased the gardener 
when mowing was going on; he would watch his oppor- 
tunity, and when no one chanced to be looking, he would 
run away with a bit of carpet or piece of old flannel, that 
the gardener used to wipe his scythe; or else he would 
drag away the hone, or sharpening-stone, and hide it 
under his lilac-bush. 

So gardener, finding him a great nuisance on mowing days, 
told us that he should certainly mow off Jacky's head or 
legs some day; for he would come hopping about among 
the cut grass; and if taken up and landed in his tree, 


he would immediately come down again,, and thrust him- 
self just in the way. 

So for the future,, we took care on mowing days to shut 
up Jacky in the nursery, or in the dining-room, where he 
u.-ed with a rueful countenance to watch all proceedings 
through the window, pecking now and then in a spiteful 
way at the glass. 

Whilst Jacky was in our possession, we had a sparrow- 
hawk for a short time. Papa brought him home one evening 
in a paper bag; he was a very handsome fellow, with such 
brilliant e\vs, and such a beak ! lie was perfectly wild, and 
bit furiously at any hand that approached him; so we 
covered up his head in a pocket-handkerchief, whilst 
gardener fastened a small chain round his leg. Then we 
iixed a short stump in the grass, not lar from Jacky 's lilac, 
and fastened the end of the chain to the stump. So he 
could run and hop about for a yard or two round the stump; 
we intended to keep him there until he became a little 
tamer, and hoped that the example of his neighbour would 
teach him good manners. But instead of taking Jacky 
as a pattern, the new comer bullied him in a most dreadful 
way. We might have saved ourselves the trouble of chaining 
him, for he snapped the chain in two with his strong beak, 
and came down from his stump quite at liberty to roam 
about. Strange to say, he did not go away altogether, but 
walked in at the dining-room window. We were seated at 
tea, and not knowing that the hawk had liberated himself, 
we were quite startled at hearing a curious flapping in the 
corner of the room, but we soon saw the two brilliant eyes, 
and there sat Mr. Sparrow-hawk, on the top of the book- 


Page l?t. 


case. We took him out and confined him to his stump 
again. There he staid quietly all night; but next day we 
heard Jacky pitying himself in his bush, and we found 
him fidgetting about in the top of the lilac, and fearing to 
come down, because Mr. Sparrow-hawk was walking about 
at the bottom, and whenever poor Jacky ventured down, 
he was darted at by the new comer, and hastily scrambled 
up the bush again. This was done out of pure love of 
teasing, for the hawk would not condescend to touch 
Jacky's food, consisting of sopped bread; but yet he 
would not let the poor old grey-head come down to eat 
his own breakfast. Jacky was quite crest-fallen, and we 
procured a stronger chain which held Mr. Sparrow-hawk 
fast on his stump for several days, during which time Jacky 
regained his equanimity. 

But then the chain was burst again, and this time the 
hawk took to chasing the cats as well as tormenting Jacky. 
We had two cats, they were very good friends with Jacky, 
and used wander about the garden a good deal; quite 
unconscious of what was in store for them ; they commenced 
playing about Mr. Sparrow-hawk's stump, when down 
stepped the gentleman and nipped the tail of the nearest 
cat quite tightly in his sharp beak, poor pussy shrieked and 
mewed, and we had to go to her rescue. At last we left off 
chaining the hawk, as we found that he did not try to 
escape, but sat on his stump or else came into the house; and 
we often were startled by finding him perched on a table, or 
on the bannisters, but at the same time he would not become 
tame, and he so terrified and annoyed poor Jacky, that we 
soon sent him away; and certainly the cats and Jacky 


must have rejoiced, when they found the savage owner of 
the stump had disappeared. The only sign of civilization 
which Mr. Sparrow-hawk had shown, was one evening, 
when a gentleman who visited us, happened to he playing the 
flute in the drawing-room. The hawk never came into the 
room when any one was there, and had very often heard 
the piano and singing; but probably the peculiar sound of 
the flute had something very pleasing to the bird's ear, 
for although this room was full of people, he came to the 
open window, hopped in, and gradually approached the 
flute-player, till he perched himself on the end of the flute. 
When the music ceased, the hawk, quietly took himself 
out of the window again, and next day was as wild as ever. 

One of Jacky's great pleasures during the summer, was 
bathing or washing at the sink in the back kitchen. We 
always took care that he was provided with a large saucer 
of water, which stood beneath his lilac bush, but this did 
not appear to be sufficient. One day when the cook was 
pumping water out of the sink-pump, Jacky jumped up, 
and put his head under the stream, shouting and fluttering, 
with expressions of the greatest delight; and after this he 
generally came every day into the back kitchen, and called 
and hopped about until cook came and pumped over him. 
Such a miserable half drowned creature as he looked, with 
all his feathers sticking close to his body; then he used to 
repair to the kitchen and sit before the fire, till he became 
dry. Sometimes he got upon the fender, and when the fire 
was large, it made his feathers appear quite to smoke, by so 
rapidly drawing out the water. Once he was actually 
singeing, when the cook snatched him up and put him out 


of the window, and it was strange that he seemed to like 
the roasting at the fire, quite as well as the cold water. 

He soon discovered the time that tea was prepared in the 
kitchen, and regularly came to the window to ask for tea 
and bread and butter; so a saucer of tea and a piece of 
bread and butter were placed on the window-sill for him, 
as punctually as the cook's own tea was prepared; and 
Jacky sipped his tea, and ate his bread and butter 
like any old washerwoman. But whilst sitting at the 
kitchen window he spied all sorts of things on cook's 
little work-table that strongly tempted his thieving 
propensities, and coming cautiously one morning, when 
the cook was absent, he pretty well cleared the table; 
very many journeys in and out must it have cost him, for when 
the poor cook returned to her kitchen, she began exclaiming. 
" Who has been meddling with my work and all my things?" 
and she called to me and my sister, and asked if we had 
hidden her work materials to plague her. " No indeed," we 
said, " we have not been here this morning at all/' 

"Well then," said she, "what has become of my thimble, 
my scissors, and reels of cotton, my work, that I laid upon 
the table, and there was also an account-book of your 
Mamma's, and a pen; I dont see one of them!' : We 
hunted about for the missing articles. The kitchen window 
looked out on a plantation, not far from Jacky's bush. 
My sister looked out. " Oh \" cried she, " there is one leaf 
of your account-book on the border." " And I declare," 
exclaimed cook, who had run to the window, " there is one 
of my new reels twisted round and round yon rose tree; 
I do believe it's that mischievous bird." We were delighted. 


We both sprang out of the window '' There's your thimble," I 
shouted, " full of wet mould ! >J " And here are your scissors," 
cried my sister, " in Jacky's drinking saucer! And there 
is your half-made shirt, hanging on the rose bush beneath 
the wind"- Poor cook could not forbear laughing. 

"Well/' said she, "he must have been right-down busy to take 
off all these tilings in about five minutes. Gather up my 
things for me, like good bairns." So we ran about picking 
up the things; the cotton reels were restored with about 
half their supply of cotton, as he had twisted them all round 
about the stems of different plants; the pen was stuck into 
the earth, and as f >r the account-book, the leaves were all 
about the gard-ii, some he had even carried down to the 
cucumber frame, quite at the other end. But he was such a 
favourite, that even this sort of trick was allowed to pass 
unpunished. He furnished us with much amusement; and I 
am now coming to his sad end. 

The wall which separated our garden from the road, was 
very rough and old, full of holes and crumbling mortar. 
Once or twice, when sitting at the windows, we had seen a 
small animal run across the gravel walk; we could not 
discern whether it was most like a rat or a weasel, and pro- 
bably it came in through one of the holes in the wall. We 
did think of Jacky; but knowing that he always roosted at 
the top of the lilac bush, we supposed that he was quite 
out of the reach of rat or weasel. One morning quite 
early, our Papa whose window was open, heard a very 
strange sort of chattering from poor Jacky, so unlike his 
usual language, that he got up and looked out of his 
window. Seeing nothing, and hearing no more, he went to 


bed again; but when Mamma went as usual to give Jacky 
his breakfast, no call of pleasure came from the bush, no 
Jacky was there, and he was no where to be seen. 

" Then a weasel has taken him/' said Papa, when we 
told him ; " the singular cry he made this morning, was 
doubtless when the weasel seized him." And when we 
searched about the garden, there we found on a grass bank, 
at some distance, the remains of our poor pet. The weasel 
had bitten him behind the ear, and sucked the blood; his 
feathers were a good deal ruffled, but no other bite had 
been made. We blamed ourselves much, for not having 
safely fastened him in a cage every night in the house. 
But now we could do nothing but bury the body of poor 



SHORTLY after poor Jacky's death, Papa called us into the 

" Children !" he said, " Here is something for you in my 
handkerchief. Gueas what it is; but don't touch." 

The handkerchief looked as if something very heavy 
was in it; and we guessed all sorts of things, but in vain. 

At last Papa let us feel, and my sister grasped it rather 
roughly; but withdrew her hand quickly, with five -or six 
sharp pricks. 

" Oh ! it is a nasty hedgehog," cried she ; " look how 
my lingers are bleeding 1" 

" Not a nasty hedgehog/ 5 I said, " but a curious nice 
creature ; where did you get it, Papa?" 

" It was given to me this morning for you," he replied; 
" It will live in the garden; and you must sometimes give 
it a little milk, and it will do very well; and perhaps 
become quite tame." 

The little creature, when placed on the grass, did not 
curl itself up and appear affrighted, but looked about him, 
and ran quickly to and fro. We brought some milk out in 
a saucer, but he could not manage to get his nose over the 
side; so we made a little pond of the milk on the grass, and 
he dipped his black snout into it, and then sucked it up 


This hedgehog soon became very tame ; when we took 
him up in our hands, he did not curl up in alright, but 
let us look at his feet, and touch and pat his curious little 
pig's face. He helped himself to what he liked best 
in the garden ; and we never found that he rooted up 
anything, or did the slightest damage; he liked the milk 
which we gave him daily ; and when we were playing on 
the grass, he used to run about us, as if he liked our 

We had been told that we should never be able to keep a 
hedgehog; that they always climbed over the walls, and 
escaped to the fields and hedges. 

But although we did not in any way confine Pricker, he 
never attempted to leave us, being apparently quite content 
with his run of the kitchen garden, flower garden and 
house; for we sometimes carried him into the kitchen, and 
up stairs into the nursery, where he would roll himself up 
into some snug corner, and remain apparently asleep for an 
hour or more. 

When we had had Pricker for some weeks, we received 
a present of a second hedgehog. He was larger, but never 
became so tame as our first friend; he did not like to be 
taken up in our hands, and we never could obtain a good 
look at his black face and legs, as he rolled up on the 
slightest touch; and when Pricker was running about on 
the grass, his shy companion used to remain hidden beneath 
the leaves and plants. 

We had, at this time, a very favourite dog; and at the 
first coming of the hedgehogs, we were in gome fear that 
Tawney would kill them, for he was a most eager hunter of 


rats, weasels, rabbits, cats; in short, of anything that would 
run from him. 

But every one assured us that a dog would not kill a 
hedgehog, on account of his sharp prickles ; and the first 

time that we showed Pricker to Tawncv. he made a sort of 

j * 

dart at him, and received, of course, a violent prick on the 
nose; at this he retreated, barking and licking his lips, and 
dancing round poor Pricker, with every desire to attack 
again ; but hoping to find a spot unprotected by the 
formidable spikes. 

Pricker, however,, having tightly rolled himself up, such 
not was not to be found; and, after a great deal of noise 
and excitement, Tawney retired, and we never observed 
him to venture again. 

AVhen Pricker was running on the crrass, or when we 

D O 

were feeding him with milk, Tawney used to play about 
without condescending to take the slightest notice of the 

O O 

little animal; in short, he pretended not to see him. So 
that we felt quite easy about the safety of Pricker and his 

AVhat it was that induced Tawney not only to see 
Pricker, but to attack him again, we do not know, as no- 
body was witness of the catastrophe. 

On going into the garden one brilliant morning, Tawney 
made his appearance in a very excited state, bounding 
about our feet with a short delighted bark, that was not 
usually his morning salutation; and on looking more closely 
at him, we saw that his nose was bleeding; indeed, his 
whole head and ears were much ruffled and marked. 

AVe did not at first think of Pricker; but on wiping 


Tawney's face with a wet towel, we found that he was 
bleeding from many wounds. 

" The hedgehog !" we exclaimed, " He must have killed 
poor Pricker." 

So we commenced a grand hunt through the garden, 
looking under all the cabbage-plants, and in all the usual 

Behind the cucumber frame \ve found our hedgehog; 
but as he curled up the moment we looked at him, we 
knew that it was not Pricker; and on further search we 
discovered the mangled remains of the poor animal, whose 
natural armour had not been sufficient to protect him from 
so brave and plucky a little dog as our Tawney, who must 
really have suffered greatly from the deep thrusts into his 
face and head before he could have inflicted a mortal bite. 

Now, we thought, what shall we do with the other; as, 
doubtless, Tawney, would not allow him to live, having 
found himself the conqueror in the present instance. 

Papa said that a gentlemen, one of our neighbours, had 
been telling him that his kitchen was infested with black 
beetles; and that he had tried beetle-traps, and all sorts of 
methods of getting rid of them in vain. Papa had told 
him that the surest way was to keep a hedgehog in the 
kitchen, as they devour black-beetles greedily. 

" Now," said Papa, " as you cannot keep the little 
creature in safety here, you had better make a present of it 
to Mr. D ; and I advise you to carry it to him at 

once.' : 

Accordingly, we took the hedgehog to our neighbour, 
and it was duly installed in the kitchen. 


In a day or two, we went to enquire whether the beetles 
were decreasing. 

Alas ! the poor hedgehog had fallen a victim to his own 
greediness; for, having eaten too many beetles, he was found 
dead amidst a heap of the slain. 

u J 


IT happened at this time that we passed another winter in 
Ireland; and missing our garden, and other occupations, 
my father made us a present of a dog. 

Drake was a large handsome retriever of a dark brown 
colour, with very short curly hair. I believe that sort of 
dog is called the " Irish Retriever ;" they are certainly very 
common in that country. I remember to have seen many 
of them; but our Drake, we thought, was handsomer than 
the generality ; his coat was more curly and of a better 
colour, and he was taller for they often have rather short 
legs in proportion to their body. He was a very rough 
bouncing creature, full of life and activity; many a tumble, 
and many a hard knock we received in our games with 
him; he used to bound at us, and putting both paws on our 
shoulders, roll us over like ninepins. 

It was winter when he came to us a very hard winter, 
almost constant frost, and now and then heavy falls of 
snow we were at that time in a small fort on the bank of 
the Shannon; and although that is a very broad, deep,, and 
rapid river, it was once, during the winter, quite frozen 
over for more than a week; and, after that, when the 
strongest current remained unfrozen, there was still a great 
deal of ice on the sides, and all among the sedges and 
rushes that grew among the flat banks. 


Drake liked the cold very much, and liked rolling in the 
snow, and being pelted with snow-balls, which was our 
chief amusement out of doors during the winter. 

In the house we had fine games of hide and seek ; we 
hid a glove or pocket-handkerchief under the sofa-cushion, 
or in the curtain, or in Mamma's pocket, and telling Drake 
to find it; he would rush frantically about the room, 
snuffing in every hole and corner, until he brought to light 
the hidden article. Then we had races, in and out the 
bed-rooms and sitting-rooms, up and down the stairs, and 
round the tables; but these races generally ended by some- 
thing being thrown down, or, at least, by our clothes being 
torn in Drake's exultation at catching us. 

Whilst the hard frosts lasted, Papa had Drake out with 
him a great deal. 

Wild geese and wild ducks abounded on the river ; but 
they were extremely difficult to shoot; they generally flew 
in great numbers, and seemed to keep a sentinel, or one to 
look out; for it was almost impossible to approach them 
near enough to have them within the reach of a shot. 

It was now that Drake's fetching and carrying propen- 
sities became most valuable. 

Papa had a flat punt constructed ; it was a most curious- 
looking boat, so flat that it scarcely stood out of the water 
at all; inside was fixed a large duck-gun on a swivel, and 
then there was just room for Papa, and one man, to lie 
down at the bottom, with Drake; it was rowed by one 
paddle at the stern. 

The geese and ducks used to come to feed on the river's 
banks very early indeed in the morning; and so watchful 


Pout 57. 


and shy were they, that even in the flat punt, Papa found 
that he could not come at all near them unperceived. Off 
they would all go again, making such a flapping with 
their great wings, and quacking as they went. 

So Papa, having noticed a flat swampy sort of place, some 
way down the river, set out late at night in the punt; and, 
reaching this feeding-ground, waited there till the flock 
came flying over them. They made themselves heard 
sometime before they arrived; and then Papa, the man, and 
Drake, all crouched down and remained immoveable until 
the birds were right overhead ; and then, bang went the 
great duck-gun, and down tumbled, at least, half-a-dozen 
great fat geese. 

Now was Drake's time ; and but for him no geese would 
have been brought home, although many might have been 

Out of the punt sprang Drake, and soon carried back 
one or two that had fallen into the open water; then he 
would carefully get upon the thin ice, between the rushes 
and the coarse grass, and bring to light any wounded bird 
that had sought to find a shelter there. Then again into 
the water where great thick reeds prevented the boat from 
going; if the birds dived, he dived after them; and, in 
short, none escaped him ; he swam after them, scrambled 
along the ice after them, rummaged in the weeds all stiff 
with frozen snow, and having seized one" and hurried back 
to the boat with it, off he would start for another. 

But when the flock had once received a shot, they came 
no more to the same place that night; so no more was to be 
done, unless a chance bird or two on the way home. 


Sometimes they flew one or two together; we have seen 
them from the windows of the fort, fly quite close to the 
bridge in the daytime; but only great hunger could have 
driven them to this. 

When the party reached home, and the birds were spread 
out on the floor to be looked at, how pleased Drake was, 
and how proudly he snuffed from one to the other. 

The wild geese were very handsome birds, not so large 
as common geese, but very plump, and with a beautiful 
dark brown plumage. They were very good to eat, for they 
do not live on fish, as some suppose, but cat only the weeds 
and grass that they find in certain spots along the river's 
bank. But the ducks m-rc handsomer still, very nearly as 
large as the geese; less tough when cooked, and having 
brilliant blue feathers in each wing. Then there was a 
smaller kind of duck, with green feathers instead of blue, 
in the wings; this green was like the humming bird's green, 
as bright as emerald. 

Besides these, there were teals, very-pretty looking things 
with silvery looking feathers on the breast, and a variety of 
of small ducks, and curlews. All pretty, and all good to 
eat; we had to thank Drake for every one of them, as 
without his help very few would have been picked up; 
there was so much thin ice along the river, that would not 
have borne a greater weight than Drake, so when they fell 
upon this, they were quite out of man's reach, to say 
nothing of the difficulty of groping out a wounded bird 
from a wilderness of long grass and rushes, growing in 
pretty deep water. Drake highly enjoyed the night 
expeditions, and when the punt was getting ready, or the 


gun cleaning, he would jump about and bark, as if to say 
lt I know what is in contemplation/' 

When the winter was nearly passed, we went back to 
England, leaving Drake in the fort; being much played 
with and sometimes teazed by the soldiers, he became very 
rough, and rather inclined to snap and bite. Shortly 
afterwards he was sent to us in England, and on his arrival 
we brought him in, to have a game with us in the house. 
We had a large ball, and were making Drake fetch it, 
when we rolled it to the end of the room. This went on 
very well for some time, excepting that Drake did not give 
the ball up without a growl, which he had never done 
formerly; and at last, he laid down with it between his 
fore feet, and I desired him to bring it in vain, so I went to 
him and took it in my hand, when he flew at me with a 
growl, and bit my cheek. It was not a very severe bite, 
but Mamma said she would not keep the best dog in the 
world after he had bitten one of us, and that Drake must 
immediately be sent away. Then Papa wrote to a gentleman 
who knew what a clever dog at finding game Drake was, 
and he agreed to buy him. So he was sent off without our 
seeing him again. 



AYi-: now come to the very chief of our favourites, our dear 
dog Tawney. Before he arrived, we only had a setter who 
lived in his kennel in the yard, and we never petted him 
much; and once when Papa went away for several months, 
he took the dog with him, so we were without any guard. 

At this time a great many robberies had taken place, and 
houses had been broken into in the neighbouring town. 
There appeared to be a gang of house-breakers going about. 
And when Mamma was writing to our Grandmamma, she 
said that she quite expected a visit from this gang, some 
night, as Papa was away, and no man in the house. 
Grandmamma replied that the best safeguard was a little 
terrier, sleeping inside the house, and that she would send 
her one; and in a few days we received a beautiful terrier, 
close haired and compact, with such brilliant dark eyes and 
of a yellowish colour, more the colour of a lion than 
anything else, so we named him " Tawney.'' A bed was 
arranged for him in a flat basket, which was placed every 
evening near the back door, and we soon found what 
sharp ears he had, and what a good watch-dog he w r ould 
prove. If Mamma got up after every one had gone to bed, 
and opened her own door as softly as possible, Tawney 
heard the lock turn, and barked instantly. He always gave 
notice when anybody entered the front gate, or came into the 


yard, and we felt sure that no housebreaker could approach 
the house unheard at least. 

Tawney became our constant companion. He took his 
meals with us,, sat under the table during our lessons, 
walked out with us, joined in all our romps and games; 
and was really almost as companionable as another child 
could have been. At hide and seek, running races, leaping 
over a pole, and blind man's buff, he played as well as any 
boy, and when we drove in the pony carnage, he amused 
us excessively. He darted into every door or gate he found 
open, and in passing through the town he behaved so badly 
with respect to the cats, that we were obliged to take him 
into the carriage, until we had quite left the streets. If 
he saw a poor quiet cat sitting at a door he flew at her; and 
if the cat took refuge in the house, Tawney followed 
barking and yelping, and doing all he could to worry poor 
puss. Of course this was not at all pleasing to the inmates, 
and generally Tawney emerged, as quickly as he entered, 
followed by a flying broom-stick, sometimes by the contents 
of a pail of dirty water; and often by an angry scolding 
woman, whom we had to appease as we best could. Then 
if he saw a little child with a piece of bread, or a mug of 
milk, he would seize upon the food, knocking down the 
child by the roughness of his spring; and then we had 
again to apologise and explain, and regret, and so on; and 
although all these pranks were done in the joy and 
delight of his heart, at starting for a good run in the 
country, that was no comfort to the aggrieved cats and 
children ; and he became so unbearable when in the town, 
that we used to make a circuit to avoid the streets, or else 
as I said before, take him inside the carriage. 


Then wlicn we reached the lanes and roads, we gave 
him his liberty, which he thoroughly enjoyed. How he 
raced before us, how he sprang over the hedges and walls, 
sometimes disappearing entirely fora field or two, and then 
suddenly darting out from some wood or garden ! Once or 
twice lie returned to the carriage with his nose bloody; we 
could not discover what he had been worrying. But it must 
be confessed that he was a fierce little animal, and had no 
idea of fearing anything. 

Sometimes he disappeared altogether when running after 
the carriage, and more than once staid out all night and even 
two nights; but always returned safely and in good plight, 
as it' he had n<t been >tarved. 

We used to wi>h that he had the power of telling us his 
adventures on these occasions: where he had tlept; what 
pranks he had played ; and in how many scrapes and 
difficulties he had found himself. 

His greatest delight was when Papa took him with us to 
hunt a stack for rats. Oh ! what a wonderful state of ex- 
citement was Tawney in; he used to sit staring at a hole in 
the stack as if his eyes would spring rom his head, and 
shaking in every limb with delightful expectation. Then, 
when the rat bolted from his concealment, what a sharp 
spring did the little fellow make ; and having dispatched 
his victim, would peer up to the top of the stack and seem 
to examine so carefully all up the side, to discover another 
hole that looked promising. If none offered, he would run 
off to another stack, and snuffing all round it, search most 
carefully for signs of rat holes. 

One of Tawney 's most annoying tricks, was his love of 


fighting; lie scarcely ever met with another dog, without 
flying at him and provoking him to a severe contest, in 
which torn ears were his usual reward; but this sort of 
hurt was perfectly disregarded by him. 

On one occasion, we went a journey to the sea-shore, 
and Tawney was put into a dog-box, with several other 

While the train was in motion the rattle and noise 
prevented us from hearing them; but at the first station a 
most tremendous yelping, snarling, and shrieking arose 
from the dog-box; and, on opening the door, the whole 
number of dogs were tearing and biting each other ; no 
doubt, having been invited to the contest by our naughty 
Tawney. The combatants having been separated by dint of 
dragging at their tails, legs, and bodies, Tawney, with 
damaged mouth and ears, though wagging his tail and 
wriggling about with pleasure, was consigned to a solitary 
prison for the rest of the journey; and the remaining dogs 
were left to lick their wounds in peace. 

We were anxious to see what Tawney would think of 
the sea; we had neither river, pond, or lake, near our home 
in the country, so had never had an opportunity of trying 
his powers of swimming. 

The first day that we went down to the shingle, the sea 
was very rough; great tops of white foam rolling over on 
the beach ; and we had no idea that the little fellow would 
venture into the midst of such a very novel-looking 

However, we flung a stick in. " Fetch it, Tawney ! 
Fetch it !" 


And in plunged the bold little animal; the first wave 
threw him upon the beach again, looking rather astonished; 
but he did not hesitate to try again. The water being so 
rough, we did not urge his going in any further, fearing 
that he might be washed away; but on smooth days, he 
would swim out a long way, and bring back any floating 
thing that was thrown in; and he enjoyed his swims as 
much as any regular water-dog could do. 

He had a habit of paying visits by himself, when we 
were at home; he used regularly to go down the road to a 
farmer, at some little distance, every morning about eight 
o'clock, and quictlv return, trotting along the footpath 
at nine, which, doubtless, he knew to be the breakfast 

\Yhilst we were at the sea-side, he used to visit a family 
with whom we were intimate. Running to their gate, he 
waited till some one rang, and entered with them; if their 
business was not in the drawing-room, he again waited till 
some other person opened the door, and then he settled 
himself on the hearth-rug for about half an hour; after 
which, he took leave by wagging his tail, and came home 


The lodging in which we were, was one on a long terrace, 
the front looking on the sea, and the back having a long strip 
of yard opening into a lane. The kitchen being in front, 
Tawney found that he was not heard when he barked to be 
let in at the back of the house. 

But the servant did not approve of coming up the steep 
kitchen stairs to let in Mr. Tawney, when the back door 
was level with the kitchen, and only a step for her; and, in 


some way, Tawney comprehended this; for he used to come 
to the front of the house; and the area of the kitchen- 
window being close to the front door, he was sure that his 
bark was heard. Then he raced round the end of the 
terrace, and through the lane, to the back door; and by 
the time cook had gone to open it, there was Mr. Tawney 
ready to enter. 

There being no fear of housebreakers or thieves here, 
the dog was allowed to sleep in Mamma's bed-room ; 
we provided him with a box and some folds of carpeting 
at the bottom, and made him, we thought, a soft comfortable 

But Tawney much preferred sheets and blankets, and, 
my sister sleeping in a little bed in the corner of Mamma's 
room, he used to wait till she was fast asleep, and then 
slip himself on to the bed so quietly as not to wake her ; 
and, getting down to the foot of the bed, would remain 
there till morning. 

But Mamma said he must stay in his box ; and forbad my 
sister to allow him to get on the bed. 

As, however, he never tried to do so until she was asleep, 
she could not prevent it. So Mamma listened, and when she 
heard Tawney very softly leave his box and go to the bed, 
she got up and whipped him, and put him back in his box, 
ordering him to stay there. 

Several nights this took place; till Tawney had the 
cunning to wait till Mamma also was asleep, when he crept 
into the warm resting-place, and staid there in peace till the 


When daylight appeared, he returned to his own bed, in 



order to avoid the morning whipping, which he knew 
would come, were he discovered in the forbidden place. 

When we were returning home, we were to make some 
visits in London; so, thinking it best not to take Tawney, 
we- entrusted him to a man who was going to our own 
town, with many charges as to feeding and watching him. 

And wl ii-ii we had left London and arrived at home, 
there was poor Tawney safe and well, and extravagantly 
delighted to see u?. 

AVI K' n we enquired about his behaviour on the road, of 
the man who had brought him, he told us that he had been 

O ' 

in a terrible fright at the London station, thinking that he 
had lost Tawney entirely. 

lie hud to cross London from one station to another; 
and there was an hour or two to spare before the starting 
of the train from the second station; so, wishing to leave 
the station for that time, and fearing to risk Tawney in the 
street, he tied him up, as he thought, safely in a shed 
belonging to the station. He was also taking with him 


some luggage belonging to us, among which was a large 
round packing-case, that usually stood in Mamma's room ; 
these were shut up in a store-house at the other end of the 

At the appointed hour our friend returned to the station, 
and went to claim the dog; but no Tawney was in the 
shed, only the end of the broken rope which had fastened 
him. In great anxiety he ran about enquiring of all he 
met. No one knew anything of the dog, no one had seen 
him pass out of the station; and after fruitless search in 
in all the waiting and refreshment rooms, and in short 


through the whole station; he was reluctantly obliged to 
go for the luggage in order to pursue his journey, when, on 
opening the door of the store -house, what was his joy on 
beholding the missing Tawney, seated on the top of the 
round packing case, that he well knew to belong to his 
mistress. How he found out that the luggage was in the 
store-house, and how he got in, we could not of course 
discover; and it only confirmed us in our opinion of Tawney's 
intense wisdom. We and Tawney enjoyed ourselves much 
for some weeks, taking long walks, long drives, and hunting 
rats in all the neighbours' stacks. We had some fine games in 
our own field, and a great deal of basking in the sun, as it 
was a beautiful summer, with constant sunshine. 

I mentioned, that Tawney used to enrage the people 
in the cottages by trying to worry their cats. On one of 
these occasions, when he had made a dreadful confusion at 
the door of a cottage containing children, upsetting a tub 
of soap-suds, dirtying the clean sanded floor, and frightening 
an old woman nearly out of her wits, by his reckless endea- 
vour to seize on the cat; a man had come angrily out of 
the cottage, and coming close up to the carriage, declared 
with a clenched fist, and a furious countenance, that if 
Tawney ever approached his door again, he would kill 
him. Papa, who happened to be with us, said that if he 
would give Tawney a good beating, it would punish the 
doo- without punishing us; and as he was a great favourite, 
he begged that he would not think of killing him. Then 
we drove on, leaving the man standing sulkily in the road. 

Whether Tawney had gone alone to this cottage for the 
purpose of worrying the cat, or whether the man had taken 


his revenge for the first offence, or whether he had done 
anything in the matter, we shall never know; but we could 
not help suspecting him when the following sad affair 

It was a very sultry d iy, too much so to run or to do 
anything but lie on the grass, which we did during the 
whole morning. Papa sat reading on a bench placed in the 
shady side of the huu-e, and we were on the grass beside 
him; Tawney lay roasting in the sun, and, now and then, 
panting with heat, came to us in the shade, or even went 
into the dining-room window and ilung himself down under 
the table; some steps led into the garden from the window, 
and as the window-sill was not level with the dining-room 
floor, but raided about twn ll-ct above it, we had a stool or 
sort of step inside the window, as well as outside; Tawney 
generally sprang through, without troubling himself about 
the steps. 

Soon after Tawney had entered the house, apparently 
for the purpose of cooling himself, we heard a tumble, then 
another, and I got up to see what he was doing. " Why 
Papa," I cried, " what can be the matter with Tawney, he 
is trying to jump out of the window and cannot reach the 
sill, and falls back again." Papa came to see, and again 
the clog made an ineffectual spring at the low window-sill. 
Papa lifted him out into the garden, saying he supposed he had 
half blinded himself with lying so long in the hot sunshine. 
But w r e continued to watch him, and presently we saw his 
limbs twitching in a sort of fit, and he ran wildly about us. 
Papa called to the gardener, and they took him into the 
stable, forbidding us to approach him, as they feared he was 


going mad ; they dashed water over him as he lay exhausted 
on the straw in the stable; but soon the fits became more 
and more violent, and our poor dog in a few hours was 

A man that examined him by Papa's desire, said there 
was no doubt that he had been poisoned by strychnine. 
He might have picked up something so poisoned while 
running in the roads, or it might have been purposely done 
by the angry man to whom I alluded. We never found 
out the manner in which it had been administered, and 
could only regret most heartily the loss of our dear play- 
fellow. We had not another dog for a very long time, 
and never shall love one so well as Tawney. 



WHAT pretty things arc pigeons, how happy and nice they 
look sitting on the house-top, and walking up and down the 
sloping roof with their pretty pink feet and slender legs; 
and then how they flutter up into the air, making circles round 
the house, and now and then darting oil on a straight flight 
across the fields. Soon after we came to live at our country 
house, my M>IT had a present of a pair of fantail pigeons, 
quite white. They were beauties, not theslightcst speck of any 
colour was on their leathers ; and when they walked about 
with their tails spread out in a fan, and their necks pulled 
up so proudly, we thought them the prettiest creatures we 
had ever seen. Our Papa allowed us to have a nice place 
made for them in the roof of the stables, with some holes 
for them to go in at, and a board before the holes for them 
to alight on; inside there were some niches for nests, and 
as the fantails were quite young, we soon ventured to put 
them in there. At first we spread a net over their holes, 
so tli at they could only walk about on the board outside; 
and when we thought they knew the look of the place well, 
we let them have their entire liberty, and they never 
left us. 

Xext we obtained a pair of tumblers, these were small 
dumpy little birds, of a burnished sort of copper colour, and 
such queer short little bills; when they were flying, they 
turned head over heels in the air, without in the least 


interrupting their flight. Then we had some capuchins, 
they were very curious-looking creatures, white and pale 
reddish brown, with a sort of a frill sticking up round their 
necks, and the back of their heads. We called them our 
Queen Elizabeths, for their ruffs were much more like her's 
than like a monk's hood, from which resemblance they are 
named. Besides these, we had several common pigeons, 
some pretty bluish and white. We fed them regularly in 
the yard, and when they saw us run out of the house, with 
our wooden bowl full of grain, they came fluttering down 
and took it out of our hands, and strutted about close to us 
so tamely and nicely; and then they would whirl up again in 
the air. 

We lived quite close to a railway station, and at onetime 
of the autumn, a great number of sacks of grain were 
brought therefor carriage to distant parts of the country; 
for the corn fields were very numerous about us. In the 
process of unloading these sacks from the carts, and again 
packing them on the railway trucks, a quantity of corn was 
spilt about, and our pigeons were not slow to find this out; 
we noticed they were constantly flying over into the station- 
yards; and sometimes when we went to feed them in 
the morning, they did not come for our breakfast at all, 
having already made a great meal at the station. There 
was an old pigeon-house in the roof of the luggage store, 
which formed part of the station buildings; and our 
ungrateful pigeons actually went and built some of their 
nests in this pigeon house in preference to our own. At least, 
they laid their eggs there; as for building a nest they 
never did, they trod an untidy sort of hollow in the straw 
and wool we placed for them, and there laid their eggs. 


AVe often wondered why it was they did not build beau- 
tiful compact and smooth nests like the little hedge birds- 
That was the only thing about the pigeons that we did not 
like their dirty untidy nests, and the frightful ugliness of 
the newly-hatched pigeons. The first nest they had, 
was made by the white fantails, and we had anxiously 
watched for the hatching, expecting that we should have 
two beautiful little soft white downv pigeons, something like 
young chickens, or, still bettor, young goslings. And how 
disappointed we were when we saw the little frights, with 
their bare great heads and lumps of eyes, and their ugly 
red-skinned holies, -tuck full of bluish quills. After 
that we did not much trouble ourselves about the 
younir pigeons, until they came out with some feathers, 
and tried to fly; but for all that, it was very provoking to 
see them go off to another house. 

Our favourite of all, was a large handsome pouter or 
cropper. lie was of a kind of dove colour, mixed with green 
and bluish feathers, and when he stood upright, and swelled 
out his breast, he was quite beautiful. He became tamer 
than any one of the pigeons; he would come to the window 
when we were breakfasting, and take crumbs of bread from 
our fingers, he would perch on our shoulders when we 
called to him in the yard, and liked to strut about at the 
back door, and to come into the kitchen and to peck about 
beneath the table; we called him Puffer. But he too was 
very fond of going to the station, and sitting on the store- 
house roof; and at last, really half our pigeons had their 
nests in the station house instead of in ours. We went 
and fetched them out, nests and eggs altogether, several 


times; and then we persuaded the station men to block up 
the door of the old pigeon-house, which prevented them 
from laying their eggs there, but they still greedily pre- 
ferred that yard to our own. Then came the harvest time. 
There were many fields of corn within sight of our house, 
and we perceived that our naughty pigeons took to flying 
out to these fields, instead of going so much to the station. 
How beautiful they looked with Puffer at their head, 
darting along in the sunshine, till they were almost out of 
sight; and in about an hour they would come back again, 
spreading themselves all over the house-top, and lying down 
to bask in the sun, and to rest after their long flight, and 
the good meal they had made in the corn-fields. Puffer 
would always come down to us, however tired, and let us 
stroke him and kiss his glossy head and neck. 

One day after they had all flown far out all over the 
fields, we heard a shot at a distance; we were not noticing 
it much, beyond saying to each other, " There is some one 
shooting;" but the gardener who was with us observed, 
u I wish it may not be some one firing at your pigeons. 
The farmers can't bear their coming after the grain; I am 
sorry they have taken to flying away to them corn-fields/' 
This alarmed us, and we watched eagerly for the return of 
the pigeons. " Here they come," I exclaimed, and 
presently they were all settling as usual about the house 
top, Puffer in the midst quite safe. lf Count them, Sir," 
said the gardener. So we set to work to number the 
fantails, tumblers, Queen Elizabeths, and dear old Puffer; 
all right, but surely there were not so many of the common 
pigeons; no, two were missing! (< They've been shot then, 


sure as fate," said the gardener, " we shall lose them all I fear." 
Next morning we gave them a double breakfast, hoping 
that not feeling hungry, they would not again go to the 
fields; but off they went as usual about mid-day, and very 
anxiously we watched for their returning ilight; we could 
always see Puller a long way off, he was so much larger 
than the others, and we longed for the time when all the 
corn would be reaped and carried away, out of the reach of 
our favourites. 

One by one our pigeons diminished; we begged the 
rdener t< speak to the farmers about, and ask them not 
to shoot our pigeons; but he said that it must be very 
annoying to the limners to see a tribe of birds devouring 
the produce of their hard labour and anxiety; and that he 
did not wonder at their endeavouring to destroy the thieves, 
lie said that if he spoke about it, the farmer would say, 
u Shut up your birds, and if they dont meddle with us, we 
shan't meddle with them." Then \vc consulted whether we 
could cage our pigeons; but they had always had their 
liberty, and we were sure that they would not thrive if 
shut up. So we must take our chance, and the naughty 
things persisted in flying over the fields to the distant corn. 
One day, no Puffer returned to us; and in despair we gave 
away all our remaining pigeons. 



I NOW come to rather a singular pet. Every one or rather 
every child has a dog, or a cat, or rabbits, or thrushes; 
little birds in cages are dreadfully common, and so are 
parrots; so are jackdaws: and, as for ponies and donkeys, 
what country-house is without them. 

But I think that many people have not had a tame bat. 
It is not generally a tempting-looking creature ; and I 
should never have thought of taking any trouble to 
procure one with the intention of petting it. 

Our bat put itself into my possession by coming or 
falling down the chimney of my bed-room. 

The room was dark; and I heard a scratching and 
fluttering in the chimney for some time. Then I heard 
the flapping of wings about the room ; and thought that a 
robin or a martin had perhaps fallen into the chimney and 
had been unable to make its way again to the top. 

I got up, and was seeking a match to light my candle, 
when the little creature came against me, and I caught it 
with both hands spread over it. 

I felt directly that it was not a bird ; there is something 
so peculiarly soft and strange in the feel of a bat; and I was 
nearly throwing it down with a sort of disgust. 

Second thoughts, which are generally best, came in time 


to prevent my hurting the poor little creature ; and I 
lighted the candle, and took a good look at my prize. 

It was about the size of a small mouse; it kept its wings 
closely folded, and I placed it in a drawer, and shut it up 
till morning, when I and my sister had a long inspection 
of my prize. 

I do not know of what variety it was; for there are, I 
believe, a "Teat many different kinds. He had not long 

O J tj 

ears; his eyes were very small indeed, though bright. 

We hud never handled a bat before, and were not soon 
weary of examining his curious blackish wings ; the little 
hooks, where his fore-feet, apparently, should have been; 
his strangely-deformed hind feet ; and his mouse-like body 
and fur. 

\Yc wrapped him up and shut him in a basket, and 
during the day, I caught a handful of flies, of all sizes, and 
put them into the basket. 

When it grew dusk, we opened the basket, and he soon 
came out and fluttered about the room for a time; we 
found that he had eaten all the flies, but not the wings of 
the larger ones. 

When he had been at liberty for some time, we easily 
caught him again, and shut him up; and when he became 
a little more used to me, I left him out all night, being 
careful to close the opening into the chimney ; and he 
used to have the range of mine and the adjoining room 
during the night. 

o o 

We tried him with a variety of food. I had fancied that 
bats ate leaves and fruit ; but he never touched anything of 


that kind. He would eat meat, preferring raw to cooked ; 
and would drink milk ? sucking it up, more than lapping. 

He evidently did not like the light ; but sometimes 
would make flights about the room when candles were 
burning; and, occasionally, I took him about in my jacket 
pocket in the day-time. If I took him out to show him to 
any one in the broad day-light, he never unfolded his 
wings to fly, but remained quietly in my hand with his 
wings folded. 

We had been reading a book in which one of the 
characters, a strange old man, was named Dr. Battius; so 
we called our bat after him; and I do think the little 
creature learnt to know me. He never fluttered or tried to 
get away from me ; and would always let me take hold of 
him without manifesting any fear. 

He went several long journeys in my pocket; once I had 
him with me in a lodging by the sea-side, and amused 
myself much with him. He would sit on the table in the 
evening, lap his milk at my supper-time, and would vary 
his exercise by crawling or progressing along the floor, 
darting about the room, or hanging himself up to some- 
thing by his hooks, and letting his body swing about. 

He cleaned himself carefully, used to rub his nose against 
the soft part of his wing, or rather his black skin, for it was 
not much like a wing, and would scratch and clean his 
body with his hind feet. 

People used to say, " How can you keep such a repulsive 
sort of animal?" 

But, in fact he was not a dirty creature; he spent as 
much time rubbing and scraping himself, as any cat would 


do ; and he ate nothing dirty, raw beef and flies being his 
chief food, with a very little milk. 

We had heard and read that bats have some ex- 
traordinary way of seeing in the total darkness, or else 
that their touch is so delicate, that they can feel when 
approaching any wall or hard thing; and it was so with 
Dr. Battius, excepting on one occasion the night when I 
first caught him; then he struck against my chest ; so that I 
secured him easily, by clasping both hands over him. 

But 1 never after saw him strike against anything; he 
used to 11 v about my room at night, and I never heard the 
least tap against any object; he even would come inside 
my bed curtains, and ily to and fro; but I could not detect 
the slightest s<mnd of touching them. 

o o 

Tin- black >kin that formed his wings was so wonderfully 
soft to the touch, that perhaps he felt with that, when the 
wings were spread out. 

I cannot imagine that his crushed-up little eyes could 
see in the daik; they appeared scarcely good enough to see 
at all in any light. 

This poor little creature lived in my care for many 

I went to visit some friends who were not fond of any 
animal in the house; and I knew that this dusky little 
creature would inspire disgust, if not terror, among some of 
the party. So, unwillingly, I left him at home. 

But my sister being away too, the servant, perhaps gave 
him too much food, or he missed his exercise about 
the room. One morning he was found dead in his 


I have no idea whether bats are long-lived animals; or 
whether they would, for any time, flourish in solitude. 
Had I kept the poor little doctor with me, I might have 
found out more about him. 



I THINK I may here describe a bird, which, although he 
was not our property, was watched with much interest by 
us, and which we never met with but once. 

Jt was a Chough. 

It belonged to an oilicer who was living in the same 
] .rracks; and we iim saw it perched on the window-sill of 
lii.- kitchen. 

" Is that a crow?" a.-ked my sister, pointing to it, as we 
stopped to examine it. 

"That cannot be a crow," I answered; "its legs are 
yellow, as well as its beak ; and it is more slender, and a 
more bluish sort of black." 

When we approached and offered to touch it; it did not 
draw back or appear shy, but allowed us to stroke its back 
and look at it quite closely.' 

It was a very handsome bird; its plumage beautifully 
glossy; its claws hooked and black; and its tongue very 
long. It was pecking at a plate of food that was near it; 
but did not appear very hungry. 

Presently, the officer's servant came to the window, and 
we enquired what it was. 

" A Cornish Chough," was the answer. 

AVe had never seen one before; indeed, knew nothing 
about that sort of bird. We had, indeed, heard its name 


in an old song or glee, called the " Chough and Crow;" or 
that begins with those words. 

So we asked Mamma about it when we went in, and she 
showed us an account of it, in which we found that it is not 
at all common everywhere, like a crow; but that it only 
lives in the cliffs of Cornwall, Devonshire, and AVales; and 
has sometimes,, but rarely, been seen about Beachy Head, 
and in no other part of Europe, excepting the Alps. So 
that it is really a very uncommon bird. 

The same account said that they could be taught to 
speak like a jackdaw. 

But we never heard this one say anything, or make any 
noise, except a sort of call or croak, with which he an- 
swered the servant who attended to him. 

We always stopped to stroke and pat him when we went 
out to walk; and he was a great pet with the soldiers, and 
went about some years with the regiment. 

He showed his intelligence and quickness in a very 
curious way. 

During the time that the regiment was quartered in 
Scotland he was lost; he had either wandered out of the 
barrack-gate, and had failed to find his way back again; or 
he had been picked up and carried away by some thief. 
He was, however, never seen or heard of for many months, 
and was given up as lost. 

The regiment then removed to Edinburgh ; and two or 
three soldiers went to visit a sort of zoological garden in 
the outskirts. There were a great number of cages, among 
other things; and the attention of the men was attracted 



to one of these cages by the violent fluttering and exertion 
made by the inhabitant to get out. 

On coining closer to the cage, they perceived that the 
prisoner was the old Cornish Chough; and they asked the 
keeper if it was lately that they had confined it, since it 
seemed so uneasy. 

The man said that it had been in that cage for a long 
time, and never had been otherwise than perfectly quiet 
and satisfied. 

They wished to take it away, saying they knew the 
bird's former master; but the owner refused to part with 
it, and the soldiers passrd on. 

On their way back, the keeper was still standing watch- 
in"- the bird; who, as soon as the soldiers came a^ain in 

O * o 

sight, fluttered and dashed itself violently against the 

The man said that losing sight of them, it became quiet, 
and sat dolefully on its perch; but the moment it again 
saw them, it exerted all its strength to reach them. 

There is no doubt that the poor bird recognised the red- 
coats, among which it had formerly lived, and wished to go 
to his old friends. 

The soldiers told the officer how they had discovered 
his old pet ; and he purchased it from the keeper of the 

The poor Chough manifested great pleasure at being 
again in the barrack kitchen, and followed the fortunes of 
the regiment until his master's death, when we lost 

O -* 

sight of the yellow-billed yellow-legged Cornish Chough. 



" GUESS what we have, Mamma ! Guess!" cried I and 
my sister, as we ran into the dining-room, with some- 
thing wrapped up in each of our pinafores. So Mamma 
felt, and found that we had something alive; then she 
guessed guinea-pigs, then rabbits; at last we rolled out on 
the carpet two little kittens. 

They were such soft, pretty little things; one was black 
and the other white. I chose the black one, and my sister 
had the white. They lived chiefly in the nursery, and 
were soon very familiar, and quite at home. 

My black one, however, was pleased to be much fonder 
of my sister than of me; it particularly insisted on sleeping 
on my sister's bed; and we sometimes changed beds to see 
if it would follow her. Blacky would jump on the bed, 
come and look at my face, waving his tail about in the 
air, and seeing that it was his own master, he would 
bound off the bed and go and look in the other, and 
being satisfied that my sister was there, he would curl 
himself up at her back. In consequence of some illness 
in the nursery, my sister was sent to another room, and 
Blacky not finding her in the nursery, went and looked 
into all the bed-rooms until he found her. Snowdrop, as 
we called the white cat, used to sleep in a large wardrobe, 
rolled up upon some of the clothes. They were both very 


fond of getting into cupboards and drawers, and often 
startled us, and others, by springing out, when drawers 
and closet-doors were opened in different rooms; we were 
obliged to forbid them the drawing-room, because they 
would get on the chimney-piece, and on the top of a book- 
case where there was a good deal of china, find we thought 
they would certainly throw down and break it all in their 
rough games. 

At the time we had these cats, we had also the jackdaw 
and hawk; and Blacky and Snowdrop often went to have 
a game with Jacky, who liked them; they used to run 
after him round his bu.-h, and amuse themselves with 
v.-hisking their tails about, and seeing him peck at them. 
But when they tried the same game with the hawk,, they 
found a vi-ry lili.-R-nt creature to deal with; for the savage 
bird darted at the playful little creatures, and very nearly 
bit off Blacky 'a tail ; and afterwards, if he saw them in 
the garden, although they did not offer to approach his 
stump, he would slyly steal among the shrubs and bushes, 
till he got near enough to them to make a dart at their 
tails, and many a savage bite he gave them. 

We did not keep these cats long. Blacky disappeared 
entirely; whether some one stole him for the luck of having 
a black cat, or what became of the poor little fellow we did 
not know. Snowdrop was fond of running on the top of 
the garden-walls, and of hunting little birds about the 
roads; and it seems strange that so active an animal as 
a cat should allow itself to be run over, but Snowdrop, in 
hunting a bird across the railway, which ran on the other 
side of our garden wall, was actually killed by the train. 



OUR donkey, Neddy, was never replaced ; but instead of 
him we had a far better pet, a beautiful little Shetland 
pony! "We had left Ireland, and went to live in England; 
we had a nice garden, a paddock and some fields, and a 
stable; and when we saw all .this, we ran to Papa and 
begged that we 'might now have another donkey, as there 
was plenty of room for him. But Papa said we might now 
very well ride a pony, and that he would look out for a 
nice one. Shortly after this he went to a large horse-fair 
at Doncaster, and almost before he could have arrived 
there, we began to look out and watch for his return with 
the pony. 

We made all kinds of guesses about the size and the 
colour that the pony would be, and wrote out a long list of 
names suitable for a Shetland. I wished that it might be 
black, and my sister wished for a cream colour ; but I 
believe that no such thing exists as a cream-coloured 
Shetland. And after all our expectation, Papa came home 
so late, that we did not see him that night. 

We besieged his door next morning, shouting, f6 Did 
you find a pony? Have you bought the pony?" Yes, 
a pony had come, but we were not to look at him until 
Papa came down; and after breakfast, Papa sent for it to 
the dining-room window. Oh ! what a nice little roly-poly 


of rough hair it was. It was very small, and its funny little 
face peeped out from the shaggy bunch of hair over its 
eyes, in such a sly way. Its mane was a complete bush, 
and its tail just swept along the ground. And all over its 
body the coat was so thick and soft, and so long, that the 
logs looked quite short and dumpy. Altogether, it was 
the most darling little fellow any one could imagine; its 
colour was dark-brown, and its mane and tail nearly 

Papa promised to get a nice saddle and bridle for it, as 
declared that Neddy's old pad was so shabby, that it 
would be a shame to put it on this little beauty. But, 
meantime, we were well satisfied to use it, and commenced 
our rides forthwith ; scarcely a day pii-.-ed without our 
making a long excursion. Sometimes Mamma walked with 

O D 

us, and sometimes only nurse; we used to trot along the road 
for some distance, and then canter back again to Mamma, 
so that we had a long ride, whilst she only took a moderate 
walk; and we soon had explored every lane and bye-road 
near our new home. 

After much debate about the pony's name, we had fixed 
on two or three, and finding that we could not agree on 
the important subject, we wrote out the names on slips of 
paper, and drew lots. " Bluebeard" was the name that we 
drew the oftenest, so that was decided; and as he really 
had a very long beard, we thought it very appropriate. 

Although Bluebeard was a decided beauty, it must be 
confessed that he had a great number of tricks, and was 
not the best-behaved pony in the world. AVhen we were 
out riding, if we met any carts on the road, or in passing 


through the streets, Mamma or nurse used to lead him 
by the bridle; this we used to consider a great affront 
to our horsemanship, and Bluebeard, doubtless, thought it 
an affront to himself, for he could not bear to be led; he 
shook his head, and tried to get the bridle out of their 
hand, and failing to do so, he revenged himself by biting 
and tearing Mamma's shawl or dress; and our poor nurse 
had scarcely a gown left that was not in rents and holes 
from Bluebeard's teeth; she said it took her half her time 
to mend her clothes, for she never went out with us and 
returned with her clothes whole. This amused us very 
much; but Mamma thought she should have liked Bluebeard 
better if he had been less playful. 

With good living, and the care that was lavished on 
him in our stable, he soon became fatter, and very frisky, 
so full of wild spirits and play, that we could not quite 
manage him. So Mamma had a very small basket-work 
carriage made, just to fit Bluebeard ; it was painted dark- 
blue, and was very pretty; it had two seats, so just carried 
us, and Mamma and nurse. 

Now we drove out one day, and rode the next; the 
carriage was so low, that we could jump in and out as 
Bluebeard trotted along; and we liked to run, holding on 
by the back, to see whether we could run as fast as Blue- 
beard at his fastest trot; and when we jumped out, he used 
to turn his head round and look for us, and sometimes 
made a full stop till we got in again. Mamma thought 
that the heavier work of drawing the carriage with four 
people in it, would prevent Bluebeard from becoming too 
frisky and unmanageable, as, certainly, it was far greater 


labour for him than a quiet trot with only myself or sister 
on his back; but I believe that the more work he had, the 
more corn he ate, for he scampered along with the carriage 
as if it were nothing at all, and grew more and more 
skittish. It was very amusing to watch for donkeys as we 
drove along the roads, for he could not bear to meet one; 
if he spied the long ears at a little distance, he used to 
fling up his head, stand still for an instant, and then turn 
sharply round, and rush away in the opposite direction to 
the offending object; this he did whether we were riding 
or in the carriage. It signified but little when we rode: 

O O 

for all that happened was our tumbling off, when he 
twitched himself round; and as he met Mamma and nurse 
a little way back on the road, he was always stopped. 

r>ut in the carriage it was a very awkward trick, and we 
should often have been upset, hud not the front wheels 
turned completely under the body of the carriage, so 
Bluebeard could twist round, and put his head quite inside 
without upsetting us. 

Once or twice, when going up a hill, a donkey suddenly 
put up his head from behind the hedge. Round flew 
Bluebeard with such a jerk, as nearly to throw us out of 
the carriage, and having whisked us round, he tore down 
the hill at a furious rate. All that could be done on such 
occasions, was for one of us to jump out and hold his head 
before he had time to turn round; and, therefore, we 
always kept a sharp look out for donkeys on the road. 
This dread of Bluebeard's was the more strange, as he was 
extremely friendly with a poor half-starved donkey that was 
sometimes put into the same field with him. He used to rub 


liis head against it, talk to it, (that is, hold their noses near 
together), and seemed quite to like its company. But any 
other donkey inspired him with downright terror. Another 
bad trick when in the carriage, was kicking, which he often 
did, sometimes throwing his heels so high that he got them 
over the shaft, and then we had the fun of unharnessing 
him completely, in order to put him in again. 

It sometimes took a very long time to catch him, 
though the field was very small; he would come close to 
the groom, and when he put out his hand to catch him, he 
would give his head a toss and gallop off round the field ; 
now and then, when weary of his fruitless attempts at 
catching him, the groom would set the field-gate wide 
open, and Bluebeard would dart through it, along the lane, 
and up the hill to our house. But it was rather a risk 
doing so, as it was quite a chance whether he would go 
home, or in any other direction, 

When he was fairly in the stable, and cleaning and 
harnessing had commenced, he by no means ceased from 
his playful tricks : he would roll in the straw with his legs 
kicking up ; then he would bounce about in all directions, 
to prevent the bridle from being put on; and shake his 
head till all his shaggy mane fell over his eyes. 

All this was meant for play and fun; but the groom 
often was reprimanded for unpunctuality, in not bringing 
the carriage to the door for half-an-hour or more after the 
time when it was ordered. Certainly, if Bluebeard would 
not be caught, and then would not be harnessed, it was not 
the groom's fault. However, he began to be very sharp 
and cross with the pony; and once pulling him roughly up 


from sprawling on his back, instead of standing still to be 
combed, Bluebeard dashed his head at him and gave him 
a bad bite on the chest. 

When Mamma came out to put a plaister on the bite, she 
was very angry, and said that if Bluebeard bit in his play, 
she could not allow us to keep him; and she desired that 
lie should not have half so much corn. 

But I do believe the groom paid no attention to this 
order, and gave him just as much as before; for the wicked 
little pony never became one bit quieter, and we often had 
to beg hard that sentence of dismissal should not be pro- 

Whenever Papa had time to take us riding with him, or 
could spare his horse for the groom, we had a nice ride, 
Bluebeard having a long rein which Papa or the groom 
hrld, we found that he went a great deal better than when 
Mamma walked with us ; indeed, he had then no time to 
play tricks, for it was as much as he could do to keep up 
with the great horse, whose walk matched with our gentle 
trotting; his trot to our cantering; and when the horse 
cantered, Bluebeard was put to his full speed. 

We enjoyed these rides immensely; but, unluckily, they 
were few and far between, as the horse could be spared 
very seldom ; therefore, we still continued our plan of 
Mamma walking, and we riding by turns ; and it was a 
great excitement to us, watching for Bluebeard's tricks, for 
we were much afraid of his being sent away as too tire- 
some; and we tried in all ways to prevent and to conceal 
his delinquencies. 

I very frequently went over his head, for he liked to go 


precisely the way lie cliose; and if we came to a turning in 
the road, and I pulled the bridle in one direction, Blue- 
beard was certain to insist on going the other. Then he 
tugged, and I tugged; but his neck was so strong, and his 
mouth so hard, that I seldom could succeed in makino- him 

' D 

go my way; and unless some one came to my assistance, 
the dispute generally ended by Bluebeard putting his head 
between his legs, and pitching me over his head. 

My sister suggested that the best way to manage him 
would be always to urge him to go the way we did not 
wish, and he, being certain to differ from us, would take, 
as his own choice, the road that we really intended. 

This was the same plan as that suggested for refractory 
pigs, who will never go forwards; viz., to pull them back- 
wards, when they will at once make a bolt in the desired 

But I objected, that it was a shabby way of proceeding 
to manage him by deceit, and I preferred being flung over 
his head in open contest; and the plan was given up as too 
cowardly; and as my rolls were generally in the soft sandy 
lanes or on the grass by the road side, I never was in the 
least hurt. 

My sister, too, had several tumbles which made us laugh 
very much. 

We came once to a place where three lanes met, and 
Mamma called out to my sister, who was riding some way in 
front, to turn to the right; so she pulled the rein, and, as a 
matter of course, Bluebeard shook his mane, tossed his head 
about, and intimated that he intended to turn down the 
opposite lane to the left. Then my sister pulled and pulled, 


whipping Bluebeard at the same time; but his coat was so 
immensely thick, that he really did not feel a switch the 
least in the world, especially from a little arm like my 
sister's. So he did not stir, but kept twisting his head 
alonu the left-hand lane. 


" He will kirk in a minute," I said; and Mamma ran 
quickly to take hold of his bridle. 

\Yht-n nauirhtv little Bluebeard felt her touch the rein, 
he made a bolt down tlie lane so suddenly, that he dragged 
Mamma down on the ground, and Hinging up his heels at 
the same time, sent my si>t.-r living, and she came down 
upon Mamma; so there they were rolling over each other 
in the dusty lane. 

Bluebeard scampered a short way down the lane and 
then came hack to us, whisking his tail, as if to say, " You 
miirht as well have come my way at once, without causing 
all this fuss." 

And whilst we were employed in shaking the dust off 
Mamma's and sister's clothes, he stood looking at us in a 
triumphant kind of manner. 

But after all, he did not have his own way ; for when my 
sister was mounted again, Mamma took the bridle and led 
him down the lane to the right and all the way home; and 
he was not in favour with Mamma for some time after. 

AVhen the winter came on, his coat grew so thick and 
heavy, and his mane and tail so bushy and long, that he 
really looked like a great bundle of hair rolling along the 
road; for his legs scarcely showed as high as his knee. As 
for his eyes, it was a mystery how he saw at all; for they 
were not visible, except when we pulled back the hair to 


look at them: there never was such a curious rolypoly- 
looking little creature. 

When the cold of the winter was passing away, it was 
agreed that Bluebeard had better be clipped, his coat being 
really much too heavy ; no sheep's fleece could have 
weighed more. 

So we had the pleasure of seeing the little fellow care- 
fully shorn of his thick dress ; his long bushy tail was left 
at our particular request, and also plenty of inane; we 
liked that, because we found it a great help to clutch a 
handful of mane, when he tried to kick us off; but his eyes 
were left free to look out, and very saucy they looked. 

We w r ere astonished to find how small he looked, and 
how thin and elegant his stumpy little legs appeared, we 
thought they scarcely seemed strong enough to bear our 
weight ; and in the carriage he would appear a perfect 

Then his colour was entirely altered. Instead of dark 
brown, he was now a pale sort of grey ; indeed, we could 
scarcely believe that the same pony was before us. 

He did not look so droll and round, but much prettier; 
and we felt quite proud of him the next time we rode out 
with Papa. 

When he was next put into the pony-carriage, he almost 
appeared too small for it ; and one bad effect of clipping 
him was, that he evidently felt so light and unshackled, 
that he could not restrain his wish to prance and jump; 
he now perpetually was kicking his legs over the shafts; 
and so, two or three times during a drive, we unharnessed 
him before we could replace him where he ought to be 


between the shafts ; instead of having his fore legs inside, 
and his hind le^s outside. 


Mamma said that this was dangerous, and that she feared 
Bluebeard might either break his own legs by this trick, or 
would up^et the carriage and break ours. And we began 
to fear that Bluebeard would some day bring on his own 

One day, Mamma rode Bluebeard herself ; and in spite 
of the greater weight, which he must have found very 
different from that of ?uch small children as my sister and 
myself, Bluebeard kicked so much, and behaved altogether 
in such an improper manner, that Mamma declared he was 
no Icngt-r pony f >r such young children, and said she 

should expect to see us brought home with fractured skulls 
or broken limbs, if we were allowed to ride him. 

All our beggings and prayings had no effect. Blue- 
beard was sold to a man in the neighbouring town. 

When this man said that he wanted the pony for a little 
boy to ride, Mamma said that lie was too ill-broken and 
too unmanageable for any child, and that she did not wish 
to sell him for that purpose. 

But he said that he intended to tie the boy tightly on to 
the saddle, and should make a groom walk with him with a 
long rein; and then should have no fear about the boy's 
safety. And he bought him, notwithstanding Mamma's 


We were so sorry to see the poor little fellow led away ; 
our only consolation was, that in a year or two we should 
become too big for Bluebeard; and then, at any rate, we 
must have parted with him. 


Now and then we saw the little boy riding him ; and the 
groom that was with him showed us that he was strapped 
on to the saddle by a strap across each thigh, and also a 
strap below each knee; so that it was really impossible that 
he should fall off. 

Mamma said it was not at all safe for a child to be 
fastened in that way ; for if Bluebeard should take into his 
head to roll on his back, he would most probably kill the 
child. But as she had warned the father, and had told him 
of all the pony's bad tricks, it was no longer her affair to 
say anything about him, or to meddle with his arrange- 

It was a long time before Papa met with a pony to suit 
us better. The next one w r as to be so large, that he would 
last us for many years; he must be frisky enough to be 
pleasant and amusing, and yet must have no bad tricks; no 
kicking and running away ; and, above all, he must be very 
pretty indeed, with long tail and mane. 

All these qualities were not so easy to find combined; 
and before I talk about the next pony, I will mention 
some of our other pets. 

So good bye to dear little naughty Bluebeard. 


BEING for some months in a German town, we proposed, 
before returning to England, that we should procure one of 
the strange-looking little German terriers, with long backs 
and short legs; and we made inquiries as to where we 
could obtain one of the real German breed. AVe found 
that there are several different races of these dogs; they 
have all the long back, and short bandy legs; but one kind 
is very large, with pointed nose and lung tail ; another 
kind is *mall, with excessively soft hair, small head and 
magnificent large eyes; another kind is small, rather wiry 
in the hair, and unusually long and pointed in the nose. 

After seeing several, we at last had one offered to us that 
we liked, and bought; he was of the last-described species; 
his body long and narrow, his legs very short and crooked, 
and his feet enormous, big enough for a dog of three times 
the size; his tail was long, and dangled down in an un- 
gainly sort of way; his head was small, and his nose much 
elongated and pointed; his eyes small and sparkling, and 
his ears rather soft and long. Altogether, he was the 
queerest-looking little animal you would wish to see. We 
named him Joe, and commenced his education by showing 
him, that he was not to consider our baby sister a species 
of rat, and to worry her accordingly, and by teaching him 


to sleep on a rug in the corner of one of the bed-rooms. 
He was a very sociable merry little fellow, liked scampering 
after us through the range of rooms, all on one floor or 
flat, and enjoyed running along the roads and in the park 
with us; but he was terribly chilly; he could not bear 
sleeping on his mat, always wanting to be on the bed, or at 
least muffled up in a flannel gown; and in the day, he was 
happiest when he was allowed to creep under the stove and 
lie there, really almost undergoing baking. I never saw 
an animal bear so much heat with satisfaction to himself. 

He destroyed half the things in the house before he got 
over his puppy-days; but every one liked him, and he 
generally escaped punishment. He was sharp enough to 
know his way home, in a very few days after we bought 
him. We had him out in the park and missed him, a long 
way from home; seeing no sign of him, we concluded that 
some one had picked him up, and gave him up for lost, 
havino- no idea that the little voung creature would know 

O ** 

its way home ; and we were quite surprised when we 
reached our own door, to find Joe sitting there waiting; 
he had come along the crooked walks of the park, through 
the streets, and up our long flight of stairs, and our opinion 
of his sagacity rose in proportion. 

Shortly after we had bought Joe, we travelled to England, 
and determined to try whether we could manage to take 
him in the carriage with us, instead of letting the poor little 
fellow be shut up in a dog-box on the train, with, perhaps, 
a dozen other savage dogs. So Papa carried him under his 
cloak; Joe was very good at the station, and kept himself 
perfectly quiet, until we were all seated in the railway- 


carriage. We were beginning to think that we had him 
safe for that day's journey; and as soon as we had shewn 
our tickets, could let him run about the carriage. 

The ticket-taker came to the door, had looked all round, 
and Papa was showing his ticket, when, at the last minute, 
Joe began to plunge and push about under the cloak. 
Papa held him fast, but the stupid little animal set up 
a yelp, just as the man was leaving the carriage. lie 
immediately asked if we had a dog, and poor Joe was 
hauled out by his neck, and Papa had to run in great 
haste to see him placed in a dog-box. And for the next 
three or four hours, Joe howled incessantly. 

When we halted in the middle of the day, we managed 
better; Mamma took him under her shawl, and got into 
the carriage some time before the officials came peeping 
about, and he lay quiet in her lap, and no one meddled 
with him ; so the afternoon of his first day of travel was 
not so miserable as the commencement. Altogether, Joe 
was a good deal of trouble on the journey ; there was always 
a fuss about gaining permission to have him in the carriage, 
and we did not know what to do with him at the inns, for 
fear he should go down stairs and be lost. At last we 
reached England, and for a time lived in London. 

At first we were much afraid that Joe would be dartino- 


out of the front door, and would be stolen immediately. 
But he soon got used to the confinement, only having a 
yard behind the house to run in, and he made himself 
extremely happy. The house in which we were staying 
possessed two dogs, a cat, a variety of birds, and in the 
yard lived a cock with several hens. 


Joe and tlie cat used to have famous games too-ether, 

o o 

rolling each other over and over, then racing round the 
kitchen, over the tables and chairs. When pussy was tired, 
she sat upon a chair and slapped Joe's face, whenever she 
could reach him, as he ran barking round the chair. One 
of the dogs was very old and fat, and did not at all approve 
of the new coiner's vivacious ways, but growled at Joe 
fiercely when he tried to entice him to play. The other 
dog was also too fat to be very active; and when Joe 
found that no fun was to be had with them, he merely 
danced round them now and then, to have the pleasure of 
making them angry, and seeing them show their teeth; 
and then he left them to their slumbers, and scampered off 
to the cat, who was more suited to his age and manners. 

Out in the yard he had much amusement with the fowls; 
at first sight he had been rather frightened at them, but 
soon took pleasure in seeing them flutter about and run 
away from him. The cock, however, did not run away, 
but faced Master Joe, and crowed at him, and ran at him 
in the most valiant manner; and when Joe was too per- 
tinacious in barking at him and teazing him, the cock 
actually sprang upon his back and pecked him, until Joe 
crouched down on the ground fairly beaten. In return, 
however, Joe nearly caused a death-warrant to be pronounced 
against the cock and all the hens, by teaching them to eat 

One morning, the hens were observed to be in a great 
state of excitement, pecking greedily at something on the 
ground, which, on examination, proved to be a new-laid 
egg, broken and devoured by the unnatural hens. The next 



day another and another was found in the same way; in 
fact, as soon as the eggs were laid, they were brought out of 
the lien-house and broken. So it was agreed, that the hens 
having once contracted this bad habit, could never be 

O * 

cured, and had better all be killed. But before this 
determination had been put in practice, Mamma chanced to 
look out of the window early, just after Joe had been sent 
out for his morning walk, and spied the naughty creature 
coming out of the hen-house with an egg in his mouth. 
Presently all the hens and the cock ran out after him. 


calling, u Stop thief!" or, rather, implying those words by 
their cackling and noise ; and they pursued Joe round 
and round the yard, until they came up with him all 
in a body, and the egg being dropped in the scuffle, was 
of course broken ; and then the hens fell upon it and ate 
it up. 

This it seems took place every morning. Joe fetched 
eggs out of the nests ; and the hens, after pretending to be 
very angry, ended by joining in the robbery. 

The next time Joe was seen with an egg in his mouth, 
one of the servants went out and called to him, when he 
placed it on the ground so gently, that it was not even 
cracked ; and if we could manage to catch him before the 
hens rushed upon him, we always obtained the egg safe 
enough ; for he did not break it or eat it himself, only put 
it into the hen's heads to do so ; and, probably, his only 
object was to make the whole family of hens run after him, 
which he seemed much to enjoy. 

So the sentence of death against the cock and hens was 
not pronounced, as it seemed the whole fault lay with Joe; 


and whenever we could catch him approaching the hen- 
house he received a good whipping. 

He had, however, that sort of temper which cares not the 
least for whipping or scolding; he never was at all abashed 
or cowed; but made a most dreadful yelling whilst the 
whipping was inflicted, and the moment he was released 
he would dance about perfectly happy, and immediately go 
and repeat the fault he was quite incorrigible. 

We managed to prevent, in a great measure, his stealing 
eggs, by not letting him out so early ; and when he went 
into the yard people were going in and out, that could watch 

So, to make amends for the loss of his morning's fun, he 
used to push aside the window curtain and blind, as soon as 
it was light, and stand on his hind legs at the window,, 
watching the cock and hens; now and then signifying his 
approval of their proceedings by a short bark. 

He slept in an arm-chair, covered up with an old dressing 
gown. On one occasion this was removed, and we thought 
Joe would do just as well without it; but with his great 
love of warmth, he absolutely refused to sleep without a 
warm covering. He was much perturbed, and ran squeaking 
about the room, till after keeping us awake half the night, 
we were obliged to get up, and supply him with something 
soft to envelope him in the arm-chair. 

When Joe was tired of playing with the cat, the dogs, 
and the fowls, he used to go to the top of the house into 
our baby-sister's nursery. He was very fond of her; but 
usually timed his visits so as to come in for her dinner or 
supper, of which he always had a share. 


She used to put her tin of milk on the floor and sit 
beside it: first Joey took a lap or two, then baby had a sip; 
and so they emptied the mug together : and at her dinner, 
Joe used to eat the pudding at one side of the plate, whilst 
baby worked away at the other. 

Then they took a roll on the floor together, and whatever 
rough pull or pinch was bestowed on Joe, he never snapped 
or hurt the little girl; indeed, would let her do anything 
she liked with him. 

He was very long before he gave up his puppy fashion of 
tearing and biting everything , If a book or a piece of 
work fell on the ground, Joey's sharp teeth soon brought 
them into a deplorable condition. It' he could get hold of a 
bonnet, he soon dragged off ribbon, flowers, lace, and 
whatever it possessed ; and poor little baby's toys, balls, and 
dolls were never presentable after they had been five 
minutes in the house. 

Then he wickedly pulled to pieces the mat at the bottom 
of the stairs, for which he was well whipped ; in short, the 
mischief he did was terrible. 

His encounters with the cock did not prove sufficient 
exercise for the hardy little fellow; and he began to get so 
fat, that we determined to send him into the country, to 
some place where he would have a great deal of running 
about out of doors. 

We were sorry to part with him for the time we should 
be in London; but we did not wish to see him become too 
fat to waddle. 

So Papa took him with him when he went into the 
country to visit some friends. He placed him with a man 


who was to teach him rat-hunting; and Joe showed that 
he had an excellent nose, and promised to be a first-rate 

But when Papa had returned to London, we heard that 
poor Joe had made his appearance again at the house of the 
friend whither Papa had first taken him. He was looking 
sadly thin and wretched, and ran into the bed-room Papa 
had used, and searched for him in all directions. 

The poor little fellow remained there until Papa made 
another arrangement for him, as evidently he had been ill- 
used by the rat-catcher. 

He next was sent to a gamekeeper's, who lived in a nice 
park, where there was a beautiful rabbit-warren, plenty of 
stacks for ratting, a stream to swim in, and fields and farms 
to range about. 

There we hoped he would be very happy; and as poor 
little Joe is still alive, I have not to relate his end at 
present, and hope that he will still afford us much amuse- 

Now I think I have described the greater part of the 
animals, birds, and creatures of all kinds that belonged to 
me and my sister. How much pleasure we derived from 
them ! And what a mixture of pity and contempt we always 
felt for children who feared or disliked animals ! 

There was a family of little children near us once, when 
we had our dear dog Tawney; how they used to scream 
and run whenever they saw him ! even though he was 
taking no notice of them in particular. Then they would 


take up stones and throw them at him, really intending to 
hurt him ; for their intense fear of the dog rendered them 
quite cruel; and when he found that they tried to hurt him, 
and shouted at him, he used to bark in return, which of 
course terrified them more. 

Then some of our friends had quite a horror of our 
hedgehog, and our bat. and wondered how we could kiss 

Cj ^j ' * 

Neddy's nn?e, and Bluebeard's. 1 am sure their soft nice 
coats were quite as pleasant to kiss, as many people's faces. 

I only wish that all little children would love animals, 
and find as much amusement as we did in the care of our 
Live T- - 


\VLK:i!:-IMEK AM) CO., PBINTEKS, CJi.'. !,'o ; L Jl'E, FiySB^Sl Oil 








uceJ to N 







Distant Homes; 

Or, the Graham Family in New Zealand. By Mrs. J. E. AlUfKB. 

With Illustrations by J. JACKSON*. Super Royal IGmo. price 3s. Gil. 
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Neptune's Heroes : or The Sea Kings of England ; 

from Hawkins to Franklin. Illustrated by MORGAN. Fcap. 8vo; 
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Lost in Ceylon ; 

The Story <if M I Joy and Girl's Adventures in the Woods and Wilds 
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price .j.v. cloth; 5s. Gd. gilt edgr~. 

Ralph Seabrooke; 

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Fairy Land ; 

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Lonsr Evenings; 

O O 9 

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Holidays Among the Mountains; 


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The Illustrated Paper Model Maker; 

Containing Twelve Pictorial Subjects, with Descriptive Letter-press 
and Diagrams for the construction of the Models. By E. LANDELLS, 
Author of" The Boys' and Girls' Toy Maker," "Home Pastime," etc. 
Price 2s. in a neat Envelope. 

" A most excellent mode of educating both eye and hand in the knowledge of form." 
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The Girl's Own Toy Maker, 

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The .Nine Lives of a Cat ; 

A Tale of Wonder. Written and Illustrated by C. H. BENNETT. 
Twenty-four Engravings. Imperial 16mo. price 2s. 6d. cloth; 3s. 6d. 

" Rich in the quaint humour and fancy that a man of genius knows how to spare for the 
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Blind Man's Holiday; 

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16mo. price 3s. 6d. cloth; 4s. Qd. coloured, gilt edges. 
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Distant Homes; 

< >r, the Graham Family in New Zealand. By Mrs. J. E. AYLMER. 
With Illustrations hy J. JACKSON*. Super Royal IGmo. price 3s. 6d. 
cloth; 4s. 6d. coloured, gilt edges. 

Neptune's Heroes : or The Sea Kings of England; 

from Hawkins to Franklin. Illustrated hy MORGAN. Fcap. 8vo; 
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Lost in Cevlon ; 

The Story of a II- y nnd Girl's Adventures in the Woods and Wilds 
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Ralph Seabrooke; 

( )r. The Adventures of a Young Artist in Piedmont and Tuscany. 
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Fairy Land; 

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THOMAS and JAM: HOOD, their Son and Daughter, etc. Illustrated 
hy T. HOOD, Jun. Super royal IGmo; price 3s. 6d. cloth; 4s. 6d. 
coloured, gilt edges. 

Loner Evenings; 

O O ' 

Or, Stories for My Little Friends, by EMILIA MARRYAT (Daughter of 
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Holidays Among the Mountains; 

Or, Scenes and Stories of Wales. By M. BETIIAM EDWARDS. Illus- 
trated by F. J. SKILL. Super royal 1*6 mo. ; price 3s. 6d. cloth; 4s. Gd. 
coloured, gilt edges. 



The Illustrated Paper Model Maker; 

Containing Twelve Pictorial Subjects, with Descriptive Letter-press 
and Diagrams for the construction of the Models. By E. LANDELLS, 
Author of" The Boys' and Girls' Toy Maker," " Home Pastime," etc. 
Price 2s. in a neat Envelope. 

" A most excellent mode of educating both eye and hand in the knowledge of form." 
English Cliurchman. 

The Girl's Own Toy Maker, 

And Book of Kecreation. By E. LANDELLS, Author of "Home 
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" A perfect magazine of information." Illustrated Xews of the World. 

The White Elephant; 

Or the Hunters of Ava, and the King of the Golden Foot. By 
W. DALTON, Author of the "War Tiger," etc. Illustrated by 
HARRISON WEIR. Fcap. 8vo. price 5s. cloth; 5s. Gd. gilt edges. 
" Full of dash, nerve and spirit, and withal freshness." Literary Gazette. 

Frank and Andrea ; 

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of "Paul Blake," etc. Illustrated by ROBERT DCDLET. Fcap. 8vo. 
Price 5s. cloth ; 5s. 6d. gilt edges. 
" The descriptions of Sardinian life and scenery are admirable." Athenaeum. 

The ,Nine Lives of a Cat ; 

A Tale of Wonder. Written and Illustrated by C. H. BENNETT. 
Twenty-four Engravings. Imperial 1 61110. price 2s. 6d. cloth; 3s. 6d. 

" Rich in the quaint humoin- and fancy that a man of genius knows how to spare for the 
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Blind Man's Holiday ; 

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'Sidney Grey," etc. Illustrated by John Absolon. Super Royal 
16mo. price 3s. 6d. cloth; 4s. Qd. coloured, gilt edges. 
[_ " Very time to nature and admirable in feeling." Guardian. 



Or the An; : a Donkey. By the Author of (( The Triumpha 

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Art J < in nml. 

Funny Fables for Little Folks. 

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" The Fables contain tb st mingling of ftm, fancy, humour, an 1 instruction." 

Art ' 

The Histoi-v oi'a ^)u;irt"rn Loaf. 


Rhmes am! i'irimvs. lly WILLIAM XI;\V.MAN. 12 Illustrations. 

Price (Jd. plain, 1>. 

I' n i form in >i/.c and price, 

The History of :i Cup of Tea. 

The Historv of a Scuttle of Coals. 


The Ili>tory of a Lump of Su;_;;r (preparing). 

A Wbman r s Secret; 

Or IIou- to Make Home II:;; ;>y. ISino., with Frontispiece, price 6rf. 

I'n ifi >rm with the al>ovc in size and price, and l>y the same Author, 

Woman's Work; 

Or, How she can Help the Sick. 

A Chapter of Accidents ; 

Or, tin- Mother's - lit in case? of Bums, Scalds, Cuts, Sec. 

Pay To-day, Trust To-morrow; 

A Story founded on Facts, illustrative of the Evils of the Tally 

Nursery Work ; 

Or Hannah Baker's First Piacc. 

Family Prayers for Cottage Homes ; 

With a Few Words on Prayer, and Select Scripture Passages. Feap. 
8vo. price 4d. limp cloth. 

*,.* These little works are admirably adapted for circulation among the working 



The Triumphs of Steam; 

Or, Stories from the Lives of Watt, Arkwright, and Stephenson. By 
the Author of "Mig-ht not Eight," "Our Eastern Empire," &c. With 
Illustrations by J. GILBERT. Dedicated by permission to Kobert 
Stephenson, Esq., M.P. Second edition. Royal lOmo, price 3s. Qd. 
cloth ; 4s. 6d., coloured, gilt edges. 
" A most delicious volume of examples." Art Journal. 

The War Tiger; 

Or, The Adventures and Wonderful Fortunes of the Young Sea-Chief 
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Elephant," &c. Illustrated by H. S. MELVILLE. Fcap. 8vo, price 5s. 
cloth; 5s. Qd. cloth, gilt edges. 

" A tale of lively adventure, vigorously told, and embodying much curious information." 

The Boy's own Toy Maker. 

A Practical Illustrated Guide to the useful employment of Leisure 
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" A new and valuable form of endless amusement." Nonconformist. 

" We recommend it to all who have children to be instructed and amused/' Economist. 

Hand Shadows, 

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A Second Series of Hand Shadows; 

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" Uncommonly clever some wonderful effects are produced." TJie Press. 


The Headlong Career and Woful Ending of Preco- 
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With a Preface by his Daughter; and Illustrated by his Son. Third 
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" The Illustrations are intensely humourous." The Critic. 

The Harpsden Eiddle Book. 

A Collection of 350 Original Charades, Conundrums, Rebuses, etc 
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The Fairy Tales of Science. 

A Book for Youth. By J. C. BROUGH. With 16 Beautiful Illustra- 
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CONTEXTS: 1. The Age of Monsters. 2. The Amber Spirit. 
3. The Four Elements. 4. The Life of an Atom. 5. A Little Bit. 
6. Modern Alchemy. 7. The Magic of the Sunbeam. 8. Two Eyes 
Better than One. 9. The Mermaid's Home. 10. Animated Flowers. 
11. Metamorphoses. 12. The Invi>ible World. 13. Wonderful Plants. 
14. Water Bewitched. l^. Pluto's Kingdom. Iti. Moving Lands. 
17. The Gnomes. 18. A FIL'ht through Space. 19. The Tale of a 
Comet. 20. The Wonderful Lamp. 

" Science, jiorhnps was never made more attractive and easy of entrance into the 
youthful mind." The }i'itl<ii r. 

" Altogether the volume ta fi.rnf the most original, as w ell as one of the most useful, 
books ul the M.':U-UH." ' 

Paul Blake; 

Or, the Story of a Boy's Perils in the Islands of Corsica and Monte 
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Illustrated by II. ANEI. AY. Feap. 8vo, price 5s. cloth; 5s. GJ. cloth, 
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" This spirited and t <-tnry will lead our voung friends to a very intimate 

acquaintance with the itland "t Conic*." Art 

Sunday Evenings with Sophia; 

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G. BELL. Frontispiece by J. AUSOLOX. F<-ap. 8vo, price 2s. 6d. cloth. 
" A very suitable gift for a thoughtful girl." Sell's Messenger. 

Scenes of Animal Life and Character. 

From Nature and Recollection. In Twenty Plates. By J. B. 4to, 
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" Truer, heartier, more playful, or more enjoyable sketches of animal life could 
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Caw, Caw; 

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2s. plain ; 2s. Gd. coloured. 

Three Christmas Plays for Children 

1. The Sleeper Awakened. 2. The Wonderful Bird. 3. Crinolina. By 
TIIERESA PULSZKY. With Original Music, composed by JANSA; and 
Three Illustrations by ARMITAGE, coloured. 3s. tid., cloth, gilt edges. 


"With Illustrations. Fcap. 8vo. price 5s. each, cloth; 5s. 6d. gilt edges. 

Will Weatherhelm ; 

Or, the Yam of an Old Sailor about his Early Life and Adventures. 

" We tried the story on an audience of boys, who one and all declared it to be capital." 

Fred Markham in Russia; 

Or, the Boy Travellers in the Land of the Czar. 

" Most admirably does this book unite a capital narrative, with the communication of 
valuable information respecting Russia." Nonconformist. 

Salt Water ; 

Or Neil D'Arcy's Sea Life and Adventures. With Eight Illustrations. 

" "\Vith the exception of Capt. Marryat, we know of no English author who will compare 
uith Mr. Kingston as a writer of books of nautical adventure." Illustrated News. 

Manco, the Peruvian Chief; 

With Illustrations by CARL SCHMOLZE. 

" A capital book ; the story being one of much interest, and presenting a good account 
of the history and institutions, the customs and manners, of the country." Literary Gazette. 

Mark Seaworth : 

A Tale of the Indian Ocean. By the Author of " Peter the Whaler," 
etc. With Illustrations by J. ABSOLON. Second Edition. 

"Xo more interesting 1 , nor more safe book, can be put into the hands of youth ; and 
to boys especially, ' Mark Seaworth ' will be a treasure of delight." Art Journal. 

Peter the Whaler ; 

His early Life and Adventures in the Arctic Regions. Second Edition. 
Illustrations by E. DUNCAN. 

"A better present for a boy of an active turn of mind could not be found. The tone of 
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"A book which the old may, but which the young must, read when they have once 
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Blue Jackets; 

Or, Chips of the Old Block. A Narrative of the Gallant Exploits of 
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during the Ileign of Queen Victoria, by W. H. G. KINGSTON. Post 
8vo. ; price 7s. 6d. cloth. 

" A more acceptable testimonial than this to the valour and enterprise of the British 
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Our Eastern Empire; 

-, Stories from the lli-tory of British India. By thf author of 
fte Martyr Land," "Might not Kigin." etc. Second Edition, with 
Continuation to the Proclamation of Ouecii Victoria. Witli Four 
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" These stories are cli arming, and ccv.ivry a viev\- of the pro^ressof our Empire in 
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The Martyr Land ; 

' . :he Yaudois. By the Author of " Oar Eastern Empire," 

etc. Froii:i>piccc l>y .1. (Jn.r.icivr. K<-yal lc.::io; j>ricc :'*. 6<l. cloth. 

" V." - nin throuphont, they are never obtruded: tlie whole tone is 

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Mi^'iit not Right; 

Or, Sf-rics of the Discovery and Conquest of America. By the 
author of "Our Kas'.i rn Empire," etc. Illustrated by J. Gilbert. 
K'>yal IGmo. price 3.s\ G</. clotli; 4v. (',-!. coloured, <:ilt ed^es. 

" 'NVith the fortunes of Columl'iis. forte : , and PixariM, for the stnple of those stories, the 
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-';.ck Frost and Betty Snow; 

With otl^r Tales for Wintry Nights and Rainy Days. Illustrated hy 
II. Weir. 25. &d. cloth; 3s. G(/. coloured, ju r ilt eii^-.s. 

' The dedication of these pretty tale*, prove by whom they are written ; they arc 
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only jvi-fuiis i't' ^oaius possess." Art Juurnal. 

Old Xurse's Book of Rhymes, Jingles, and Ditties. 

Edited and Illustrated ly ('. II. BENNETT, Author of " Shadov.-s." 
With Ninety Engravings. Fcap. 4to. price 3s. &d. cloth, plain, or 6s. 

" The illustrations ara all so rejdete with fun and imagination, that we scarcely know 
who will bo most pleased with the book, the good-natured grandfather who gives it, or the 
chul 'i.'.v - randchild who gets it, for a Ciirijtmas-Box." Xules and Queries. 

3,[aud Summers the Sightless : 

A Narrative for the Young. Illustrated by Absolon. 85. 6 J. cloth ; 
4.9. Gel. coloured, gilt edges. 
" A touching and beautiful story." Christian Treasury . 


Clara Hope; 

The Adventures and Experiences of Biddy Dork- 

IXG and of the TAT FROG. Edited by MRS. S. C. HALL/ Illustrated 
by H. Weir. 2s. Gd. cloth; 3s. 6d. coloured, gilt edges. 
" Mcst amusingly and wittily told." Morning Herald, 


Home Pastime ; 

Or, The Child's Own Toy Maker. With practical instructions. By 
E. LAKDELLS. New and Cheaper Edition, price 3s. Gd. complete, with 
the Cards, and Descriptive Letterpress. 

** By this novel and ingenious "Pastime," beautiful Models can be made 
by Children from the Cards, by attending to the Plain and Simple Instruc- 
tions in the Bock. 

CONTENTS: 1. Wheelbarrov;. 2. Cab. 3. Omnibus. 4. Nursery 
Yacht. 5. French Bedstead. 6. Perambulator. 7. Railway Engine. 
8. Railway Tender. 9. Railway Carriage. 10. Prince Albert's Model 
Cottage. 11. Windmill. 12. Sledge, 

" As a delightful exorcise of ingenuity, and a most sensible mode of passing a winter's 
evening, v,-y commend the Child's own Toy Maker." Illustrated Neu-s. 

" Should be in every house blesced with the presence of children." The Field. 

The Story of Jack and the Giants : 

With thirty-five Illustrations by RICHARD DOYLE. Beautifully printed. 
New and Cheaper Edition. Ecap. 4to. price 2s. Gd. in fancy boards; 
4s. Gd. coloured, extra cloth, gilt edges. 

" In Doyle's drawings we have wonderful conceptions, which will secure the book a 
| place amongst the treasures of collectors, as well as excite the imaginations of children." 
Iliustrated Times. 

Or, the Blade and the Ear. By Miss MILKER. With Frontispiece 
by Birket Foster. Fcap. Svo. price 3s. Gd. cloth; 4s. Gd. cloth elegant, 
gilt edges. 

"A beautiful narrative, showing how bad habits may be eradicated, and evil tempers 
subdued." British Mother's Joitrttal. 


Historical Acting Charades; 

Or, Amusements for Winter Evenings. ISTcw Edition. Ecap. Svo. 
price 3s. Gd. cloth; 4s. gilt edges. 
"A rare book for Christmas parties, and of practical value." Illustrated Neu-s. 


Granny's Wonderful Chair; 

And its Talcs of Fairy Times. By FRANCES BIIOWNE. With Illus- 
trations by KEXNY MEADOWS. Small 4to, 3s. 6d. cloth, 4s. CK/. coloured, 
gilt edges. 

"One of the happies blendings of marvel and moral we have ever seen." Liternrti 

Pictures from the Pyrenees; 

Or, A -no-' ami Kate's Travels. By CAK<>I INK BKI.I.. With numerous 
Illustrations. Small 4to. ; price 3s. 6d. cloth ; 4s. 6d. coloured, gilt edges. 

" With admirable simplicity of manner it notices the towns, the sccucry, the people, and 
natural phenomena of tins grand mountain region." The Press. 

The Early Dawn ; 

Or, S:rics to Think about. By a Corxruv CLERGYMAN. Illus- 
trated }>y II. Wi:n;, etc. Small 4 to. ; price '2s. 6d. cloth; 3s. OJ. 
coloured, gilt edges. 

"The matter is b'lth wholesome and instructive, and must fascinate as well as benefit 
the young." Lileranuin 

Angelo ; 

Or, the Pine Forest among the Alps. By GERAI.IMNK E. JEWSBUUV, 
author of "The Adopted Child." etc. " With Illustrations l.y JOHN 
Ausoi.ox. Small 4to; price 2.v. 6</. cloth; 3.. GJ. coloured, gilt edges. 

" As pretty a child's story as one might look for on a winter's ilay." Esuminer. 

Tales of Magic and Meaning. 

Written and Illustrated by ALFRED CHOWQUILL, Author of "Funny 
Leaves for the Younger Branches," "The Careless Chicken," "Picture 
Fables," etc. Small 4to.; price 3s. 6d. cloth; 4s. Gd. coloured. 

" Cleverly written, abounding in frolie and pathos, and inculcates so pure a moral, that 
we must pronounce him a very fortunate little fellow, who catches these ' Tales of Magic,' 
as a windfall from ' The Christmas Tree'." Athenceum. 

Faggots for the Fire Side ; 

Or, Tales of Fact and Fancy. By PETER PARLEY. With Twelve 
Tinted Illustrations. Foolscap 8 YO.; 3s. Grf., cloth; 4s. gilt edges. 

CONTENTS. The Boy Captive; or Jumping Rabbit's Story The White 
Owl Tom Titmouse The Wolf and Fox Bob Link Autobio- 
graphy of a Sparrow The Children of the Sun: a Talc of the Incas 
The Soldier and Musician The Rich Man and His Son The Ava- 
lanche Flint and Steel Songs of the Seasons, etc. 

" A new book by Peter Parley is a pleasant greeting for all boys and girls, wherever the 
English language is spoken and read. He has a happy method of conveying information, 
while seeming to address himself to the imagination." Tlic Critir. 


The Discontented Children ; 

And How they were Cured. By MART and ELIZABETH KIRBT, authors 
of " The Talking Bird," etc. Illustrated by H. K. BROWNE (Phiz.). 
Second edition, price 2s. 6d. cloth; 3s. Qd. coloured, gilt edges. 

"We know no better method of banishing 'discontent ' from school-room and nursery 
than by introducing this wise and clever story to their inmates." Art Journal. 

The Talking Bird ; 

Or, the Little Girl who knew what was going to happen. By M. and 
E. KIRBT, Authors of " The Discontented Children," etc. With Illus- 
trations by H. K. BROWNE (PHIZ). Small 4to. Price 2s. 6d. cloth; 
3s. 6d. coloured, gilt edges. 
" The story is ingeniously told, and the moral clearly shown." Athenaeum. 

Julia Maitland; 

Or, Pride goes before a Fall. By M. and E. KIRBT, Authors of 
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Mind. ... 

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The Day of a Baby Boy ; 

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THE FARM AND ITS SCENES. With Six Pictures from Drawings 

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Scripture Histories for Little Children. 

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CONTENTS : Arkwright Burke Burns Byron Canning Eai 1 
of Chatham Adam Clarke Olive Captain Cook Cowpcr 
Crabbe Davy -- Eldon Erskin.3 Fox Franklin Goldsmith 
Earl Grey Warren Hastings - - Heber Howard Jenner Sir 
W. Jones Mackintosh H.'Martyn Sir J. Moore Nelson-- Pitt 
Romilly Sir. W. Scott Sheridan Smeaton Watt Marquis 
of Wellesley Wilberforce Wilkie Wellington. 

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Tales from the Court of Oberon. 

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. N -- to the above, 1 


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THE CHILD'S DUTY. Dedicated 

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Second Edition. 

MARSDEN, the Faithful Friend. 

YOUNG. By the REV. W. 





1 Alphabet of Goody Two-Shoes. '. Mother HubbarcL 

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3 Cock Robin. 11 Old Woman and her Pig. 

1 Ooartship of Jenny Wren. 12 Puss in Hoots. 

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8 Little Kh vines for Little Folks. 



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' ' 

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SJL/ ' 


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